la 


ROGER  CAREY  CRAVEN 


And  then  to  both  returned  the  vision  of  the  little  heaven 
on  earth  they  so  fondly  contemplated. 


In  the 
Twilight  Zone 


By 

ROGER  CAREY  CRAVEN 


The  C.  M.  Clark  Publishing  Company 


Boston,   Massachusetts 

1909 


Copyright,    1909 

THE  C.  M.  CLARK   PUBLISHING  CO. 

BOSTON,   MASSACHUSETTS 
U.  S.  A. 

All  Right*  R««»rvcd 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 


PROLOGUE 

I — THE  WINGED  OMEN 1 

II — THE  SILVER  SERPENT 9 

III — GENESIS  OF  THE  OLD  PLANTATION    .      .     24 

IV— "SHIFTLESS  HENRY" 41 

V — PUCK,  PREACHER  AND  PROPOSAL      .      .     52 
VI — IN  A  CEMETERY  BUT  NOT  SAD  ...     73 

VII — AN  INTRUDER 88 

VIII— A  NOTABLE  FOURTH  OF  JULY     ...     95 

IX — A  LOVER  ALARMED 109 

X — IN  PERPLEXITY 125 

XI— A  BETTER  DAY 134 

XII — LED  BY  BENIGNANT  GIANTS        .     .     .   139 
XIII— WHOSE  GUEST?  152 


22?(y?08 

>w  (~*  ^j  v>  JL  \J  O 


CONTENTS  —  Continued 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIV — ENCHANTMENT 164 

XV — DISMANTLEMENT  OF  PARADISE     .      .      .   178 

XVI — STRUGGLE  OF  Two  HEARTS    .     .     .     .190 

XVII— "A  MINISTER'S  WOOING"       ....  205 

XVIII— THE  COMING  OF  THE  DEAD    .     .     .     .216 

XIX — BITTEN  BY  THE  SILVER  SERPENT     .      .  225 

XX— AN  ORPHAN 241 

XXI— AWAY  FROM  HOME 252 

XXII — GASSLER'S  STRIVINGS 277 

XXIII— His  MASK  OFF  FOR  GOOD     ....  290 

XXIV— FICTION  AND  FACT 303 

XXV — RESTORATION — AND  EPILOGUE  .  315 


Jllufitrattntta 

PAGE 

AND  THEN  TO  BOTH  RETURNED  THE  VISION  OP  THE  LITTLE 
HEAVEN  ON  EARTH  THEY  SO  FONDLY  CONTEMPLATED 

Frontispiece 

THE  LIGHT  IMPARTED  A  REFINED  GLORY  TO  HER  HEAD      .    14 
HE  TURNED  HIS  FACE  TO  THE  SKY 53 

No   KNIGHT  EVER   RODE  FORTH   BETTER  SATISFIED   WITH 

THE  HORSE  UNDER  HIM 139 

AND  THEN  INTO  THIS  GLORY  SHE  WALKED 169 

"STAND  ASIDE!    OTHERS  WILL  DO  YOUR  WORK"  .  235 


PROLOGUE 

"WHAT  do  you  think  of  your  divine  wench  now, 
my  foolish  son,  eh?  " 

"I  may  take  her  yet,  father."  The  older  man's 
face  crimsoned  with  wrath. 

"Then  you  need  never  call  me  father  again,"  he 
said  bitterly.  "Think  what  an  insufferable  disgrace 
it  would  be  to  your  whole  family  as  well  as  to  yourself. 
We  could  never  put  up  with  it.  I  would  be  compelled, 
much  as  I  love  you,  to  disown  you.  Your  mother, 
lying  hi  her  grave — would  you  cast  a  reproach  on  her 
now  that  would  poison  her  memory  with  all  those 
who  knew  her  in  life,  the  saint  that  she  was? " 

"  Was  not  Mary  a  very  angel  to  my  mother? " 

"A  very  angel  to  your  mother?  She  was  your 
mother's  maid  and  servant;  a  good  one,  I  allow,  doing 
always  her  duty  as  she  ought,  but  still  a  maid  and  a 
servant — a  slave,  sir.  And  you  remember  what  your 
mother  herself  said  about  this  very  thing,  do  you  not? 
Now,  see,  the  girl  has  a  child — a  thing  excusable  enough 
in  one  of  the  ordinary  working  women,  perhaps,  but 
something  that  one  hi  Mary's  position  ought  to  have 
avoided.  I  suppose  you  would  become  father  to  the 
child,  too?" 

"I  may  take  both  Mary  and  the  child,"  said  the 
son  firmly. 

"Then  curses  would  follow  you  all  your  life,  and 
may  they  if  you  do  that  thing;  but  you  shall  not,  for 
I  will  sell  them  both  at  once." 


IN  THE  TWILIGHT  ZONE 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  WINGED  OMEN. 

ABNER  GARRETT  was  seated  on  his  west  porch,  as 
was  his  wont  at  the  close  of  a  summer  day.  The  sky, 
just  beyond  the  tall  beech  woods  that  now  shaded 
the  large  farmyard,  was  an  unusual  crimson,  radiately 
streaked  with  shafts  that  seemed  to  be  real  flame. 

It  was  a  fancy  passing  through  his  mind  for  the  mo- 
ment that,  as  the  day  had  been  very  hot,  the  sun  had 
determined  hi  departing,  to  set  the  parched  old  earth 
on  fire  and  at  length  have  done  with  it  forever. 

And  then,  thought  he,  what  a  spectacle  it  would  be 
if  every  top  leaf  on  every  top  branch  of  every  tree  hi 
that  sixty  acres  of  woods  should  catch  the  heat  and 
blaze  up,  a  little  taper!  What  magnificent  candelabra! 
A  forest  for  fairies  then! 

Suddenly  a  hawk  on  slow  wing  outlined  itself  against 
the  fiery  background  of  this  sky  and  reached  the  cen- 
tral point  in  the  luminous  picture. 

"And  there  the  messenger,"  was  Mr.  Garrett's  con- 
ceit, "  to  bring  the  brand  for  the  kindling  of  the  leaves." 

The  hawk  came  flying  over  the  tree-tops  and  lowered 
1 


2  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

its  flight  over  a  stack  of  freshly  thrashed  straw  that 
rose  like  a  mountain  of  gold  just  this  side  the  beeches. 

Garrett  started  to  his  feet,  for  at  nearer  view  the 
bird  looked  big  enough  to  be  an  eagle,  and  little  Bertha 
was  playing  about  the  straw  pile.  He  had  not  time, 
however,  to  think  that  she  might  really  be  carried 
away  or  that  she  would  be  too  heavy  a  burden  for  the 
largest  of  eagles.  There  was  only  time  for  him  to  feel 
that  she  was  menaced  and  to  be  pierced  with  the  fear 
that  his  darling  was  threatened  with  a  danger  from 
which  he  might  not  rescue  her,  for  in  an  instant  the 
hawk  came  flying  straight  forward  and  perched  on  the 
post  of  the  garden  gate. 

The  man  observed  this  simple  spectacle  with  sur- 
prise and  then  with  alarm.  He  turned  pale,  went 
quickly  through  the  open  doors  of  the  house  to  the 
kitchen  and  in  a  moment  came  out  with  a  shotgun 
in  his  hand. 

Mrs.  Garrett  followed  close  behind  him,  although 
he  kept  saying,  "Stay  back,  Mary,  stay  back."  She 
had  never  seen  him  use  a  gun  and  she  knew  by  his 
strange  look  that  he  was  acting  under  some  extraor- 
dinary impulse.  Therefore  she  would  not  heed  his 
injunction  to  remain  behind. 

A  rod  from  the  door  he  reached  a  point  where  the 
smokehouse  no  longer  kept  the  gate  from  view,  and 
there  he  lifted  the  gun  awkwardly  to  his  shoulder. 
Mrs.  Garrett,  the  instant  she  saw  the  mark,  raised 
both  her  hands  and  cried  frantically,  "Don't  shoot; 
don't  shoot." 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  3 

The  frightened  hawk  flew  rapidly  away. 

Garrett  brought  down  the  gun  and  turned  towards 
his  wife  with  a  broad  smile  which,  from  being  counter- 
feit, became  in  a  moment  nearly  genuine,  for,  thinking 
at  first  only  of  concealing,  if  possible,  his  inward 
agitation,  he  had  almost  banished  it,  and  passed  with 
relief  from  the  serious  to  the  amusing  features  of  the 
situation.  The  idea  that  he,  who  had  never  pulled 
a  trigger  in  his  life,  should  go  all  in  haste  to  war 
on  a  hawk!  As  for  capping  the  gun,  he  had  never 
thought  of  that.  And  Mrs.  Garrett  was  standing 
before  him,  ashamed,  he  knew,  because  she  had  given 
him  for  the  first  time  anything  like  a  command. 

He  knew,  too,  she  was  still  clinging  to  that  old 
superstition  of  hers. 

Ah,  if  he  could  only  have  thought  that  amusing  as  well. 
But,  as  against  her  shame,  he  said,  still  smiling,  "  Never 
mind,  Mary,  never  mind,"  and  as  against  her  super- 
stition and  her  fear  he  repeated,  with  the  smile  gone 
and  indeed  with  a  tremor  in  his  voice,  "Never  mind, 
never  mind."  The  fear  had  returned  to  himself. 

"Lucky  you  didn't  shoot,  Mr.  Garrett,"  said  his 
wife.  ' '  'T  would  only  have  made  it  worse.  I  wonder 
what'll  happen,"  and  she  shook  her  head  slowly  and 
sighed. 

"Nothing,  Mary.     Those  things  mean  nothing." 

"You  acted  as  if  you  thought  it  meant  something 
this  time.  Yo'  just  as  scared  as  I  am,  and  you  know 
what's  happened  befo'." 

Bertha  had  noticed  the  hawk  plunging  along  like 


4  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

an  erratic  cloud  from  the  straw  pile  to  the  post.  It 
was  her  nearest  observation  of  any  of  the  fowls  of  the 
higher  air,  and  she  came  running  after  with  all  her 
might,  full  of  curiosity  to  inspect  this  strange  visitor 
at  rest. 

"No,  he  flew  away  again,"  Mrs.  Garrett  said  to  her. 
"  You  saw  the  hawk,  didn't  you,  chile?  But  he  didn't 
hurt  you,  did  he,  honey?" 

Garrett  regarded  the  child  solemnly  and  with  a  look 
of  wondrous  tenderness,  but  said  nothing.  He  put 
the  gun  hi  its  place  in  the  kitchen  and  returned  to 
his  chair  on  the  porch. 

"Why  did  I  pay  any  attention  to  it?"  he  asked 
himself,  though  it  was  probably  plain  enough  to  him 
why  he  did ;  "  and  why  did  I  try  to  shoot  it  and  so  let 
her  find  out  it  was  there?  " 

This,  possibly,  was  not  quite  so  plain.  Yet  he  found 
little  comfort  in  thus  questioning  himself  and  so  im- 
plying at  least  that  there  was  a  mystery  as  to  both 
points  and  therefore  as  to  his  whole  action  in  the 
matter. 

He  then  became  more  frank  with  himself.  He  turned 
his  face  toward  the  front  yard  and  looked  at  a  spot 
in  the  corner  where  no  tree  was  now  but  where  one 
had  stood  a  few  years  before.  The  very  vacancy 
brought  him  a  feeling  of  uneasiness  and  dread. 

"It's  all  on  account  of  that,"  he  resumed.  "If  the 
hawk  had  stayed  out  where  I  first  noticed  him  I  would 
not  have  thought  of  it." 

And  yet  he  had  often  thought  of  it  on  seeing  a  hawk 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  5 

or  even  a  crow,  because  it  bears  general  resemblance 
to  a  hawk,  flying  through  the  air  or  lighting  on  a  limb. 

"I  might  not  have  thought  of  it  if  the  hawk  had 
flown  away  somewhere  else  from  the  straw  pile,  but 
that  it  should  come  flying  straight  for  me  and  then 
turn  to  light  on  the  post  so  near  the  house  and  at  this 
time  of  day — why  did  it  act  that  way  at  the  straw 
pile  and  what  brought  it  to  the  post  here  at  sundown?  " 

His  mind  was  filled  with  the  image  of  Bertha. 
Could  it  be  that  she  was  now  overshadowed;  that 
some  evil  fate  had  already,  almost  before  she  could 
talk,  pointed  thus  its  finger  at  her?  Then  a  retro- 
spect. 

Seven  years  before,  on  a  summer  evening,  Julia, 
his  oldest  child  and  then  a  young  woman,  lay  bedfast 
in  one  of  the  front  rooms  of  the  house.  Her  father's 
affection  for  her  was  very  great.  They  had  been  close 
companions  since  her  days  of  infancy.  He  had  ob- 
served with  the  proudest  satisfaction  and  with  a  sin- 
gular pleasure  how  she  had  grown  into  the  admiration 
of  all  the  friends  of  the  family  and  how  her  beauty 
and  her  manners  had  come  to  be  talked  about  in  the 
whole  neighborhood  and  by  chance  acquaintances.  His 
means  had  permitted  him  to  bestow  upon  her  a  thou- 
sand little  luxuries  not  easily  within  the  reach  of  other 
girls  in  the  vicinity.  Her  dresses  were  richer.  She  had 
finer  ornaments.  Her  riding  pony  was  handsomer. 

Once  her  father  had  presented  her  with  a  pretty 
side-saddle,  but  there  was  just  one  strap  about  it  that 
she  thought  too  coarse.  He  made  all  the  haste  of  a 


6  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

lover  to  change  it,  contriving  some  excuse  to  go  to 
town  for  this  sole  purpose. 

The  few  terms  the  girl  spent  in  a  boarding  school 
in  Cincinnati  were  seasons  of  considerable  discontent 
and  restlessness  with  her  father,  and  her  coming  home 
was  always  a  holiday  with  him. 

He  had  not  been  much  disturbed  on  account  of  her 
sickness  until  a  physician  "from  town,"  whom  the 
family  doctor  from  a  nearer  village  brought  down  with 
him  one  day,  said  something  about  quick  consumption. 
Mr.  Garrett  feigned  now  and  then  to  himself,  to  Mrs. 
Garrett  and  to  others,  to  make  light  of  this,  but  hi 
fact  the  depth  of  his  depression  was  extreme,  and  when 
he  looked  at  Julia  he  imagined  he  could  catch  glimpses 
of  the  shadowy  finger  of  an  enemy  disfiguring  her 
fair  face.  And  he  could  do  nothing  for  her!  He 
would  leave  the  room  in  helpless  agony. 

But  one  day  the  doctor  said  she  was  better,  and 
surely  she  was  livelier  and  stronger  than  for  many 
weeks.  In  the  evening  they  had  her  sit,  wrapped  up 
in  a  big  chair,  just  inside  the  front  door.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Garrett  and  the  boys  sat  without  on  the  porch.  At 
sundown  a  hawk  lighted  in  a  small  catalpa  tree  in  the 
corner  of  the  yard.  Before  the  boys  could  work  them- 
selves slyly  down  the  steps  to  the  gravel  walk  to  throw 
stones  at  it,  it  flew  away. 

"Oh,  it  means  trouble,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Garrett. 
"Something  bad's  going  to  happen." 

"Nonsense,  Mary,"  said  her  husband.  "What 
makes  you  stick  to  that  old  notion?" 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  7 

That  night  Julia  had  a  hemorrhage  and  before  dawn 
she  was  gone. 

Garrett,  when  the  end  came,  went  out  and  looked 
through  his  tears  for  a  long  time  at  the  still,  shining 
stars,  yearning  to  see  among  them  the  face  of  his  angel. 

A  week  after  the  funeral,  and  against  the  protest 
of  his  wife,  who  happened  to  learn  what  he  intended 
to  do  and  who  told  him  it  might  provoke  further  ill,  he 
with  his  own  hands  grubbed  the  tree  out  by  the  roots. 

Garrett  had  not  anticipated  that  Bertha  would  be 
a  second  Julia,  but  the  little  thing  was  pretty,  bright 
and  affectionate,  and  he  found  himself  loving  her  much 
as  he  had  loved  Julia  at  her  age. 

When  on  this  night  of  the  second  hawk  the  child 
sat  on  his  knee,  she  was  puzzled  that  he  did  not  so 
promptly  as  usual  answer  the  legions  of  questions 
which  she  kept  marshalling  up  and  that  he  did  not 
undertake  to  tell  her  any  story  at  all,  but,  child  as  she 
was,  she  noticed  that  he  pressed  her  closer  to  him 
than  at  other  times  and  held  her  little  hand  with  a 
tighter  grasp. 

When  all  the  others  had  gone  to  bed  Garrett  walked 
out  through  the  little  side  gate  into  the  farmyard.  He 
went  along  a  private  roadway,  flanked  on  one  side  by 
a  fence,  passed  through  two  wagon  gates,  and  entered 
by  a  well-worn  path  the  beech  woods. 

South  of  the  woods,  and  at  the  farther  side,  so  that 
it  might  be  reached  by  the  highway  that  ran  there, 
was  a  little  graveyard.  It  did  not  contain  more  than 
three-quarters  of  an  acre  of  ground.  Garrett  had  set 


8  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

it  apart  out  of  his  own  land  for  the  use  of  the  community 
and  especially  for  the  accommodation  of  the  colored 
people  who  sometimes  had  difficulty  in  securing  places 
in  other  cemeteries  to  lay  away  their  dead. 

At  this  time  there  were  few  graves  here.  One 
of  them,  and  the  only  one  with  a  marble  headstone, 
was  Julia's,  and  to  this  sacred  spot  Abner  Garrett  was 
going.  He  had  often  been  there  in  the  last  seven  years, 
but  rarely  when  another  was  present.  This  night, 
climbing  over  the  fence  from  out  the  woods,  he  has- 
tened to  the  mound,  and  there  he  wept  as  he  had 
wept  before,  and  dropping  on  his  knees,  he  so  remained 
for  a  long  time. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  SILVER  SERPENT. 

ANOTHER  summer  evening.  The  dust  lay  deep  on 
the  road  that  ran  in  front  of  the  house  and  wound 
around  the  bluff  down  to  the  bottom  lands.  The  few 
who  were  on  the  highways,  whether  afoot,  on  horseback 
or  in  vehicle,  were  enveloped  in  dry  clouds  risen  from 
the  earth.  The  dilated  nostrils  of  the  horses  that 
struggled  up  the  long,  steep  hill  were  fringed  with 
yellow  slime.  Everything  out  of  doors  had  been 
sprayed  with  soil.  Every  leaf  bore  a  thin  covering  of 
it.  Not  a  blade  of  grass  but  was  gritty  with  it.  The 
full  green  on  either  side  of  the  deeply-worn  roadways 
had  taken  on  a  lighter  hue  from  the  yellow  clay. 

Though  it  was  but  early  in  July  the  summer  had  the 
appearance  of  being  old,  yet  only  a  dash  of  rain  would 
have  restored  all  its  beauty.  Not  a  bird  could  put  its 
foot  on  the  roof  without  leaving  its  track,  and  the  pig- 
eons, as  they  lighted  on  the  top  of  the  big  barn  or  the 
carriage  house  or  the  long  corn  bins,  fanned  up  little 
storms  of  sand.  Even  the  bees  could  scarcely  have 
secured  unadulterated  pollen,  and  the  "tiny  masons 
building  roofs  of  gold"  must  for  once  have  become 
disheartened  at  the  sight  of  their  work.  Indeed,  all 
trees  and  shrubs  and  flowers  seemed  to  have  disap- 
peared and  to  have  left  standing  in  their  stead  earthen- 

9 


10  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

modelled  copies  of  themselves,  wrought  fine  enough, 
to  be  sure,  but  lacking  the  freshness  of  life. 

Only  one  fresh  spot  there  was,  and  this  the  flower 
garden.  Old  Maggie  visited  it  every  morning  and 
evening  with  the  watering  pot.  Bertha  was  usually 
with  her,  for  could  not  Bertha  carry  water  in  a  dipper? 
These  two  were  sisters  of  mercy  to  the  delicate  and 
perfumed  denizens  of  this  place,  nor  did  they  forget 
in  their  ministrations  the  plots  by  the  front  fence, 
where  other  roses  grew,  nor  the  parquets  that  bor- 
dered the  front  walk. 

They  had  completed  their  pleasant  task  once  more 
and  were  come  to  j  oin  the  other  members  of  the  house- 
hold on  the  west  porch,  for  it  was  a  habit  with  them 
all  to  sit  there  of  an  evening  when  twilight  came  on. 
Old  Maggie,  as  usual,  took  a  seat  on  the  steps  a  little 
apart  from  the  rest,  and  Bertha  was  sometimes  sitting 
by  her,  sometimes  frolicking  about  her,  getting  occa- 
sionally a  reproof  of  mock  severity  when  she  threw 
an  uncommonly  big  handful  of  grass  into  Maggie's 
hair  or  tickled  her  too  harshly  with  one  of  the  straws 
from  that  blessed  new  stack. 

Maggie  never  had  reproof  of  any  serious  kind  or 
degree  for  Bertha.  She  was  too  much  pleased  with 
her  childish  attentions  to  speak  out  against  a  chance 
admixture  of  rudeness. 

It  was  now  dusk.  All  the  doors  of  the  house  were 
open  to  admit  whatever  of  freshness  there  might  be 
in  the  evening  air. 

"Maggie,  I  s'pose  that's  Mrs.  Anthony  comin'  for 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  11 

her  ice,"  said  Mrs.  Garrett,  when  the  latch  of  the 
front  gate,  which  could  not  be  seen  from  where  they 
were  sitting,  was  heard  to  click.  "  I  wonder  how  Henry 
is  today.  Give  her  a  big  piece,  Maggie,  it's  so  hot." 

They  were  having  typhoid  fever  at  Anthony's,  and 
had  been  getting  ice  from  the  Garretts  to  cool  the  tongue 
and  brow  of  Henry.  He  was  known  hi  the  neighbor- 
hood as  "  Shiftless  Henry,"  a  nickname  first  applied  to 
him,  and  rightly  enough,  it  was  said,  by  Mrs.  Garrett, 
because,  being  a  tall,  lean,  bony,  loose-jointed,  easy- 
going fellow,  he  had  the  faculty  of  imparting  to  his 
work,  even  if  at  it  for  only  five  minutes,  the  character 
of  himself.  When  a  boy,  his  strings  were  always 
coming  loose  because  he  never  tied  the  knots  tight 
enough.  He  was  twenty-two  now,  and  had  it  not  been 
for  a  more  energetic  younger  brother,  poor  old  Mrs. 
Anthony  and  Henry  himself  surely  would  have  had  a 
much  sorrier  time  of  it. 

Old  Maggie  had  risen  to  make  a  trip  to  the  ice  house 
and  Bertha  was  dancing  in  expectancy  of  a  piece  of 
"cold  candy,"  as  Maggie  told  her  it  was,  when,  instead 
of  the  familiar  Mrs.  Anthony,  a  large  man  came  striding 
heavily  around  the  corner  of  the  house,  closely  fol- 
lowed by  two  others.  This  was  all  that  at  first  could 
be  discerned. 

"  Some  of  the  thrashers,"  said  Mrs.  Garrett  in  a  low 
tone  to  the  others.  They  were  probably  returning 
for  a  half-bushel  measure  or  a  neckyoke,  perhaps, 
that  had  been  forgotten. 

But  as  the  men  came  nearer  it  could  be  seen  that 


12  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

all  were  masked,  and  the  first,  besides,  had  a  heavy, 
red  beard,  so  that  his  features  were  absolutely  con- 
cealed. Abner  Garrett  felt  at  once  that  rude  business 
was  on  foot,  for,  besides  the  appearance  of  the  men,  he 
had  in  a  flash  remembered  the  hawk,  and  for  the  same 
reason  Mrs.  Garrett  was  frightened  to  the  marrow  of 
her  bones. 

"Good  evening,"  said  the  first  of  the  intruders 
gruflfly. 

"Good  evening,  gentlemen,"  answered  Garrett  in 
that  deliberate  and  hesitating  manner  common  when 
there  is  no  recognition. 

The  son,  Dan,  was  convinced  that  friends  had  come 
in  disguise  for  a  joke  and  was  expecting  every  instant 
that  they  would  pull  off  their  masks  and  burst  into  a 
great  laughter. 

"Gome  up  and  sit  down.  We  know  you,"  said  he 
confidently. 

As  the  three  men  put  their  feet  on  the  steps  the  leader 
lifted  a  revolver  with  the  command : 

"  Now,  all  keep  your  places.  Don't  move  and  don't 
say  a  word." 

His  companions  were  now  on  the  porch,  one  by 
Dan,  and  the  other  by  one  of  the  hired  men,  George. 
The  leader  himself  was  gazing  directly  and  intently 
at  Maggie. 

"Humph,"  he  exclaimed. 

At  this  little  Bertha  drew  away  from  Maggie  and 
bounded  to  the  side  of  Abner  Garrett,  clutching  his 
sleeve  in  a  paroxysm  of  terror.  To  her  the  "humph" 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  13 

had  been  the  grunt  of  some  terrible  beast  that  she 
had  been  told  about  in  stories,  and  she  could  face  the 
monster  no  longer. 

The  gentle  Abner,  whose  soft  ways  every  animal  on 
the  plantation  knew  and  every  human  acquaintance 
marvelled  at,  was  ready,  when  he  felt  the  press  of 
those  little  fingers  on  his  arm,  to  spring  like  a  giant, 
but  Bertha's  movement  broke  the  spell  that  appeared 
to  be  holding  the  rough  leader,  who  now  ordered 
Maggie  to  sit  down,  and,  quickly  mounting  the  steps, 
held  his  revolver  in  front  of  Garrett's  face. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  demanded  the  planter, 
more  as  a  protest  than  as  a  query. 

"You  won't  have  long  to  wait  to  find  out.  Don't 
move  and  you  won't  be  'hurt,"  he  was  answered. 

"An  outrage  on  me;  an  outrage  on  me,  you  brutes, 
whoever  you  are,"  cried  Garrett,  straightening  himself 
in  his  chair. 

"I  say  keep  still,"  shouted  the  ruffian. 

By  this  time,  though  there  were  but  six  of  the  robbers 
in  all,  the  house  seemed  to  be  full  of  men.  Footsteps 
were  heard  in  every  part  of  it.  They  were  mingled 
with  the  indefinite  sounds  of  confusion  that  came  from 
the  parlor,  the  sitting  room  and  the  dining  room. 

"Good  Lawd,  help  us,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Garrett. 

In  saying  this  she  raised  her  hands,  which  were 
rudely  seized  and  pushed  back  into  her  lap  again. 

"You  low  down  white  trash,  you.  How  da'  you!" 
cried  the  woman.  This  was  the  only  way  she  knew 
of  cursing.  She  had,  however,  never  used  the  words 


14  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

before.  She  had  only  heard  them  used  by  those  who 
were  angry. 

"  Be  still,"  the  ruffian  commanded. 

"Mary,  we  must  do  as  they  tell  us,"  said  her  hus- 
band resignedly.  "  We  are  in  their  power  and  cannot 
help  ourselves." 

The  villains  inside  were  deliberate  enough  to  light 
a  lamp  which  they  found  on  the  mantelpiece.  Mrs. 
Garrett  started  when  the  match  was  struck  just  inside 
the  window  before  which  she  was  sitting,  and  a  glare 
of  light  which  her  shadow  divided  fell  on  the  low  railing 
and  on  the  lawn  below,  but  her  alarm  lest  they  were 
about  to  set  fire  to  the  house  subsided  when  she  heard 
the  ill-adjusted  chimney  of  the  lamp  break  to  pieces 
on  the  bricks  of  the  fireplace. 

Carried  past  another  window,  the  flare  of  the  lamp, 
which,  with  nothing  to  steady  the  flame,  was  now  burn- 
ing like  a  torch,  fell  full  on  Bertha.  The  light  imparted 
a  refined  glory  to  her  head.  A  singular  beauty  was 
given  to  her  flaxen  hair,  setting  off  a  face  white  with 
fear.  It  was  pitiful  to  see  how  strained  was  every 
muscle  of  her  hand  in  its  grasp  of  her  protector's  arm. 
She  could  flee  no  further  from  the  terrible  looking  man 
with  the  red  beard  and  black  face  and  such  ghastly 
holes  for  eyes,  for  Garrett  was  always  her  last  resort. 
In  desperate  cases  he  had  never  failed  her.  When 
her  dolls  were  sick  and  had  died  had  he  not  been  the 
sympathetic  and  skilful  physician?  When  in  making 
a  playhouse  her  ambition  carried  her  beyond  her 
ability  to  execute,  and  the  boards  and  blocks  would 


The  light  imparted  a  refined  glory  to  her  head. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  15 

totter  and  fall  whether  or  no,  he  was  the  only  architect 
who  could  yet  rear  a  palace  out  of  the  dismal  ruin. 
The  cows  did  not  dare  try  to  hook  her  when  he  was 
by,  and  when  the  run  was  high  and  the  water  splashed 
and  whirled  furiously  under  the  narrow  footbridge, 
he  only  could  safely  guide  her  over. 

The  light,  as  it  disappeared  into  another  part  of  the 
house,  glimmered  fitfully  on  her  face,  as  if  loath  to 
leave  it. 

Glorified  in  that  flickering  illumination,  Bertha 
seemed  like  an  apparition  from  another  world,  a  sight 
that  might  well  have  awed  the  ruffian  who  stood 
guard  over  Mr.  Garrett. 

"By  gad,  a  mighty  fine  little  gal,  that,"  said  he, 
and  he  extended  a  hand  as  if  he  would  caress  her. 
She  shrank  from  it  as  she  might  from  the  paw  of  a 
bear,  and  what  further  horrified  her  was  that  she  saw, 
as  she  thought,  a  glistening  little  serpent  coiled  around 
one  of  those  coarse  fingers.  It  had  just  crawled  out 
from  under  the  skin,  she  thought,  for  she  could  see  a 
hole  in  the  ball  of  the  thumb  and  a  callous  path  there- 
from, and  seemingly,  also,  it  darted  out  its  tongue  at 
her. 

But  the  light  was  gone  in  an  instant  and  she  hoped 
the  snake  could  not  see  her.  She  got  further  behind 
Mr.  Garrett's  shoulder,  but  was  yet  in  awful  dread  lest 
the  loathsome  little  reptile  might  glide  from  the  rob- 
ber's hand  and  wiggle  its  way  across  Garrett's  lap  to 
bite  her. 

Abner  had  noticed  the  object,  too,  but  to  him  it 


16  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

appeared  as  it  really  was,  a  silver  ring  in  the  semblance 
of  a  snake. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  Sissy,  I  won't  hurt  you,"  said  the 
man  and  she  pressed  closer  still  to  Garrett  and  tightened 
her  hold  on  his  arm. 

A  moment  later  it  could  be  seen  that  the  men  were 
in  the  parlor  and  were  pulling  out  the  drawers  of  the 
cabinet,  which  were  the  sacred  depositories  of  Julia's 
dresses,  jewelry  and  keepsakes.  The  stranger  who 
touched  them  were  worse  than  Uzzah,  who  put  forth 
his  hand  upon  the  ark  of  God.  It  was  the  holy  of 
holies  in  that  household. 

With  a  strange  cry,  at  the  same  time  a  prayer  and 
a  defiance,  Garrett  sprang  from  his  chair.  The  des- 
perado struck  him  above  the  eye  with  the  barrel  of 
his  revolver  and  pushed  him  roughly  back. 

Bertha  uttered  a  long  and  piercing  scream.  The 
family  never  forgot  the  sound.  Garrett  always  after- 
ward said  that  he  could  hear  it  over  again,  just  as  dis- 
tinctly as  at  first,  every  time  he  recalled  the  events  of 
that  night. 

"  Mercy  on  us,  he's  killed  him ! "  cried  Mrs.  Garrett. 

Dan  dared  to  lean  forward  so  far  that  his  guard 
caught  him  by  the  shoulder.  He  began  a  question: 
"  Father,  are  you  " 

But  in  the  light  thrown  along  the  porch  from  the 
parlor  Bertha  could  see  the  blood  running  from  the 
gash  in  Garrett's  forehead,  and  she  screamed  again. 

"Choke  that  brat,"  said  one  of  the  inside  men  with 
an  oath,  as  he  stepped  to  the  door. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  17 

"Hurry  up  in  there/'  he  was  answered  by  one  of 
those  standing  guard. 

"Father,  are  you  hurt?"  Dan  made  haste  to  ask, 
now  that  he  had  another  opportunity. 

"  No,  not  much,"  replied  his  father,  and  then  to  the 
men:  "Don't  take  my  dead  daughter's  things.  Take 
anything  else  or  everything  else,  but  don't  take  them." 

"Don't  worry.  We  don't  want  anything  but  your 
money,"  he  was  answered. 

"Come  on,"  shouted  the  men  at  the  parlor  door, 
as  they  threw  the  smoking  lamp  into  the  yard. 

"Sorry  I  can't  take  that  gal  with  me,"  said  the  leader 
as  the  three  backed  their  way  to  the  corner  of  the  house. 
"Now  you  try  to  follow  us  and  we'll  have  a  shot  for 
you." 

All  six  then  ran  out  the  gate  and  down  the  road 
toward  the  river. 

Dan  proposed  to  George  that  they  follow  them,  and 
this  they  did  against  the  protest  of  Mrs.  Garrett,  who 
declared  that  they  would  be  killed  "sho"  by  those 
desperate  men  who  were  ready  to  do  anything. 

Dan  ran  into  the  kitchen  and  got  the  shotgun,  and 
he  and  George  took  a  short  cut  down  the  bluff  through 
the  timber  to  a  point  commanding  a  view  of  the  road 
at  no  great  distance  from  it. 

While  the  pursuit,  if  pursuit  it  could  be  called,  was 
being  arranged,  Abner  Garrett  walked  about  dis- 
tractedly. Suddenly,  without  waiting  to  discover 
what  had  been  taken,  disregarding  the  sobbing  of 
Bertha,  and  saying  a  word  to  no  one,  he  hurried 


18  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

bareheaded  out  through  the  woodyard  and  across  the 
orchard,  and  plunged  into  the  trees  and  bushes.  He 
had  no  confidence  that  the  robbers  would  leave  Julia's 
pretty  and  valuable  jewelry  if  they  saw  it,  but  on  the 
contrary  he  now  imagined  it  jingling  in  the  dirty  pockets 
of  the  fleeing  villains.  He  had  no  intentions  of  any 
definable  sort — only  he  must  follow  after.  Even  his 
determination  to  trace  the  robbers  as  far  as  he  could 
came  to  him  after  he  started. 

He  was  disappointed,  when  he  reached  a  ledge  of 
the  bluff,  to  find  that  for  darkness  he  could  not  see  the 
road  that,  farther  down,  ran  along  the  base  of  the  hills. 
He  was  about  to  turn  back  when  the  report  of  the 
shotgun  indicated  to  him  where  the  boys  were.  It 
came  from  a  point  a  hundred  yards  to  the  north  of 
him  and  nearer  the  road.  He  hastened  in  that  di- 
rection. 

He  found  the  boys  about  to  proceed  down  the  hill. 
They  had  caught  an  indistinct  glimpse  of  the  men 
still  running,  and  had  fired  at  them  or  rather  after 
them.  The  men  were  intending,  it  was  thought,  to 
get  to  the  river.  The  boys  had  determined  to  cut 
across  the  cornfields  in  the  bottoms  and  get  near 
enough  to  the  boat  landing  to  be  able  to  make  sure  if 
the  robbers  should  leave  that  way.  Mr.  Garrett  ap- 
proved this  plan,  counselled  them  to  be  cautious,  and 
returned  to  the  house. 

Meantime,  the  women,  left  alone,  were  scarcely  in 
less  fear  than  before.  They  imagined  a  masked  face 
looking  around  every  corner.  They  fancied  that  ene- 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  19 

mies  were  peering  in  at  them  through  the  fence.  They 
hardly  dared  step  into  the  house  for  fear  they  would 
see  uncouth  strangers  under  the  tables  and  hear  the 
shuffling  of  feet  under  the  beds  or,  worse  still,  be  seized 
and  foully  dealt  with.  The  rooms  smelled  strongly  of 
oily  smoke  and  soot.  At  the  foot  of  the  lilac  bush, 
whither  it  had  rolled  after  it  had  struck  the  ground, 
the  dismantled  lamp  was  still  blazing  and  smoking 
and  sputtering  as  if  in  demoniac  rage  from  the  violence 
and  indignities  it  had  suffered. 

"  Run  git  it,"  Mrs.  Garrett  had  said  to  Maggie. 

"No,  no,"  gasped  the  simple  woman.  "I  couldn't 
think  of  tetching  it." 

For  to  her  it  seemed  utterly  transformed  from  the 
peaceful  and  familiar  luminary  of  the  house  into  a 
brand  dropped  by  some  devil;  besides,  to  get  it  would 
require  too  venturesome  a  journey  for  her  bewildered 
and  distracted  mind  to  in  any  manner  resolve  on.  It 
lay  full  ten  yards  from  where  she  stood.  Happily 
she  had  left  a  candle  burning  in  the  kitchen,  with 
which  she  had  been  to  the  cellar  to  put  away  the  milk, 
and  this  she  was  bold  enough  to  go  after,  though  on 
her  way  through  the  sitting  room  and  to  the  little  back 
porch  on  which  the  kitchen  door  opened,  she  had  dread 
of  being  seized  at  every  step. 

And  what  a  host  of  comfort  the  candle  was!  What 
a  troop  of  evil  images  its  unsteady  rays  drove  away, 
and  the  plain  features  of  the  old  sitting  room  never 
looked  so  friendly  as  at  this  moment  in  its  light! 

Save  the  disordered  drawers  of  the  bureau  and  the 


20  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

broken  glass  in  the  fireplace,  the  face  of  things,  the 
women  were  quite  surprised  to  see,  was  unchanged. 
They  had  expected  to  behold  some  sort  of  ugly  trans- 
formation. The  clock  was  quietly  ticking  away  as  it 
had  always  done,  as  much  as  to  say  reassuringly  to 
their  fearful  spirits:  "All's  well;  all's  well;  all's  well." 

But  neither  Mrs.  Garrett  nor  Maggie  could  muster 
up  courage  enough  to  examine  the  other  rooms.  Indeed 
they  closed  the  doors  tight  and  sat  still.  Bertha,  after 
a  long  cry,  was  beginning  to  be  relieved  enough  to 
use  her  tongue. 

"  Where's  papa,  mama?  Did  the  neg'oes  take  him 
away?" 

"No,  no,  chile,"  replied  Mrs.  Garrett.  "Papa'll 
be  here  hi  a  minute.  He  went  to  see  if  he  could  ketch 
those  bad  men — here  he's  comin'  now." 

She  made  the  last  remark  as  well  to  assure  herself 
as  Bertha,  for  footfalls  on  the  porch  had  made  her 
start.  Then  Garrett  came  in,  holding  in  one  hand  the 
lamp  that  Maggie  had  been  afraid  to  rescue.  He  had 
blown  out  the  flame. 

"Gone  down  to  the  river,  I  guess,"  said  he,  antici- 
pating the  first  question  which  he  supposed  his  wife 
would  ask.  "Probably  had  a  skiff  there  and  crossed 
over  to  the  Kentucky  side.  Boys  went  down  that  way 
to  see.  What  did  they  take?  Everything,  I  suppose." 

"  'Deed  we  haven't  looked.  We  been  so  sca'ed 
all  the  time  we  ha'dly  da'ed  move.  That  was  an  awful 
lick  ove'  yo'  eye.  Just  look  at  yo'  eye." 

"Oh,  nothing  but  a  little  cut.  But  let's  see  what 
they've  done." 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  21 

Taking  the  candle,  he  made  straight,  followed  by 
the  others,  for  Julia's  cabinet.  The  drawers  were  on 
the  floor,  but  all  of  Julia's  things  were  there.  The  only 
thing  taken  from  the  house  was  Mr.  Garrett's  big 
pocketbook  containing  nine  hundred  dollars  in  bills. 

"That  fellow  told  the  truth,  didn't  he?"  said  Garrett 
with  something  of  a  smile  of  satisfaction  and  surprise. 
"All  they  wanted  was  the  money  and  the  family  is 
unharmed." 

"Not  one  of  po'  Julia's  things  taken,"  said  Mrs. 
Garrett  with  inexpressible  content.  "My,  what  hard 
creatures  they  must  be!  Just  think  what  they  were 
doing  in  here,  and  Dan's  Lawd's  prayer  right  befo' 
their  eye  starin'  'em  in  the  face  all  the  time. " 

She  referred  to  a  large  and  beautiful  scroll  of  the 
Lord's  prayer,  the  son's  pen  work,  that  hung  framed 
on  the  wall. 

"Such  men  don't  stop  for  prayers,  Mary,  spoken  or 
written,  the  Lord's  or  yours,"  said  her  husband  with 
a  little  shake  of  the  head  and  a  faint  smile,  and  he  re- 
peated the  remark  louder  for  Maggie's  sake. 

"No,  but  just  to  think  of  that.  Who  could  it  have 
been?  Some  of  the  thrashers?  Did  you  have  the 
pocketbook  at  the  barn  when  you  paid  them  off?" 

"Yes,  I  had  it  at  the  barn,  and  the  men  I  suppose 
saw  it,  but  I  think  it  could  have  been  none  of  them." 

"  Little  they  care  for  the  Lord's  prayer  or  the  Lord 
either,"  put  in  Maggie  very  seriously. 

"For  that  matter,"  said  Garrett,  who  had  now  so 
far  recovered  himself  as  to  be  able  to  joke  a  little, 


22  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"there's  the  family  Bible  on  that  stand,  which  they 
had  to  move  to  open  the  drawers." 

Maggie  nodded.  This  moving  of  the  Bible  was, 
under  these  circumstances,  a  peculiarly  atrocious  sac- 
rilege in  her  view. 

"Was  it  a  man,  papa?"  asked  Bertha,  to  whom 
the  gruff  leader  was  still  a  mystery. 

"  Why,  yes,  my  child,  didn't  you  think  it  was  a  man?  " 

"Then  he  was  a  neg'o,  wasn't  he?" 

"  His  face  was  black,  but  it  was  only  black  cloth  he 
had  put  on,  so  we  could  not  tell  who  he  was.  But 
didn't  you  see  his  hands  were  white?" 

"Yes,  his  hand  was  white — I  saw  a  snake  in  his 
hand — a  little  snake — and  it  was  white,  too." 

"Why,  Bertha!"  said  Mrs.  Garrett  deprecatingly, 
and  yet  with  some  inquiry  in  her  tone,  for  really  it 
would  not  have  surprised  her  if  he  had  had  his  pockets 
full  of  snakes. 

"Come  to  think  of  it,  she's  right,"  said  Abner  with 
a  little  laugh.  "He  did  have  a  snake  coiled  around 
his  finger." 

Mrs.  Garrett  now  shifted  her  "why"  from  Bertha 
to  her  husband,  who  directly  explained  it  was  nothing 
but  a  ring.  To  Garrett  the  ring  was  a  trifling  incident 
soon  forgotten,  but  it  remained  in  Bertha's  memory. 

The  boys  had  now  returned.  The  robbers,  sure 
enough,  had  gone  to  the  river,  and  got  away  in  two 
skiffs.  Dan  and  George  could  hear  them  laughing  as 
they  reached  their  boats,  but  could  catch  no  words 
distinctly  until  they  were  out  on  the  water  and  the 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  23 

boys  had  crept  closer  to  the  river's  edge,  when  one  of 
the  men  was  heard  to  say:  "The  old  man  wasn't 
going  to  stand  it,  was  he,  Zach?  I  thought  you  had  a 
fight  on  your  hands." 

"Zach?"    queried    Maggie,    deeply    interested    and 
inclining  her  head  toward  Dan. 

"  Zach  or  Jack — I  couldn't  be  sure  which." 
"How  that  child  did  scream,"  said  Garrett.     "You 
didn't  like  to  see  me  hurt,  did  you,  dear?"     And  he 
lifted  Bertha  high  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her. 


CHAPTER  III. 

GENESIS  OF  THE  OLD  PLANTATION. 

IT  was  a  memorable  conversation  held  years  before 
with  his  father  which  kept  repeating  itself  over  and 
over  again  in  Abner  Garrett's  mind  as  he  lay  all  the 
night  after  the  robbery,  restless  and  nervous  on  his 
bed.  The  amount  of  the  money  taken  he  had  not 
thought  of  twice.  Though  he  had  good  reason  to 
believe  that  robbery  alone  was  the  purpose  of  the  out- 
rage he  had  suffered,  yet  he  suspected  that  it  was 
really  secondary  to  a  motive  of  humiliation,  and  this 
suspicion  opened  the  way  for  a  host  of  past  sorrows  to 
come  trooping  back.  He  had  often  met  them  all 
together,  just  as  now,  and  buffeted  the  evil  legion 
single-handed,  as  he  must,  but  each  time  they  went 
away  he  felt  that  he  had  been  left  weaker  than  before, 
and  on  this  night  they  well  nigh  overcame  him. 

"Tonight  is  one  more  added,"  thought  he.  "How 
many  must  they  be  before  I  am  no  longer  able  to  endure 
them?  My  mother  would  bid  no  spirits  afflict  me. 
My  father  was  no  conjurer.  He  is  not  now,  but  'then 
curses  would  follow  you  all  your  life,  and  may  they 
if  you  do  that  thing'  and  they  have  been  following  me 
all  my  life.  An  unusually  proud  and  distinguished 
group  they  are,  too,  for  they  have  heralds.  They 
must  be  held  in  honor  by  the  power  that  controls 

24 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  25 

them.  They  must  be  creatures  of  rank  in  their  woful 
country.  For  ordinary  occasions  only  common  ones 
are  sent  out,  but  when  a  man  is  to  be  followed  up  for 
a  lifetime,  the  aristocrats  are  called  on.  In  some  dark 
way  they  move  living  things  to  carry  warnings  and 
threats  and  signs  for  them.  Make  hawks  fly,  cause 
owls  to  hoot  at  unseemly  hours  of  the  day  and  night. 
Send  squirrels  or  other  wild  things  close  to  your  house 
to  try  to  peep  in  at  your  window.  Going  to  kill  one 
of  your  family?  Have  a  bird  flit  into  your  room  to 
warn  you  of  it.  Break  a  looking-glass  and  then  some 
one's  heart.  Contrive  all  sorts  of  strange  little  acci- 
dents to  put  you  in  dread  before  striking  you.  But 
then  all  this  is  nonsense." 

Nonsense?  Could  he  make  himself  believe  it? 
Even  with  this  word  on  his  tongue,  in  his  distressful 
no-sleep  and  half -sleep,  he  felt  himself  in  the  darkness 
of  the  shadow  cast  by  indefinite  omens  of  fate. 

Dreaming,  he  observed  in  the  distance  the  sky 
becoming  overcast  by  a  cloud,  and  the  wind  blew 
strong.  At  length  it  was  to  rain.  But  as  the  cloud 
approached,  it  took  on  to  his  fevered  vision  the  outlines 
of  a  huge  bird,  and,  as  its  wings  moved  up  and  down, 
the  wind  strained  the  trees  and  filled  the  air  with  dust. 
The  sight,  indeed,  was  like  that  of  the  approach  of 
a  terrible  storm.  And  as  on  the  bird  came,  it  hid  the 
whole  sky  and  its  passage  was  like  that  of  a  tempest. 
It  uttered  a  cry.  The  sound  was  like  that  of  sharp 
thunder.  It  turned  its  head  and  cast  an  eye  down- 
ward. It  was  like  a  flash  of  lightning.  It  shed  feathers 


26  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

that  filled  the  air.  They  were  foul  and  wet.  It 
screamed  again. 

Garrett  awoke  with  a  start. 

"Oh,  that  hawk,"  he  mumbled.  "Is  it  so  that 
harpies  will  come  to  pollute  every  dish  of  happiness 
prepared  for  me?" 

His  mind  ran  back  to  the  fateful  talk  with  his  father, 
and  even  farther  back  than  that  to  his  happy  life  in 
youth  on  the  old  southern  plantation.  Then  he  lived 
over  his  life  for  the  last  twenty-six  years,  and  this 
was  the  panorama  of  time: 

Mary  was  the  prettiest  slave  girl  ever  sold  in  the  old 
market  at  Louisville,  in  the  state  of  Georgia.  So 
striking  was  her  beauty,  heightened  at  the  moment 
by  those  refined  touches  which  sadness  sometimes  adds 
to  the  human  face,  that  after  she  had  been  placed  on 
the  block  a  hush  came  over  the  noisy  multitude  of 
planters  and  speculators,  and  men  crowded  about  and 
beheld  her  in  silent  astonishment,  forgetting,  as  it 
seemed,  that  she  was  to  be  bid  for. 

The  girl  was  perhaps  twenty  years  of  age,  to  all 
appearances  white,  and  of  graceful  figure.  Even  the 
auctioneer  desisted  from  his  vociferous  occupation  for 
a  few  moments,  being  either  under  the  same  spell  as 
his  patrons  or  shrewd  enough  to  know  that  such  an 
interval  of  silence  would  have  much  effect  in  enhancing 
the  offers. 

"What!"  he  finally  exclaimed  with  a  roguish  twinkle, 
"  none  of  you  want  her?  " 

The  bidding  then  started  and  soon  grew  spirited. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  27 

The  girl  after  a  famous  contest  went  to  the  elder 
Garrett,  Abner's  father,  who  had  come  over  from 
his  Alabama  plantation  to  transact  business,  a  part  of 
which  was  to  secure  at  the  block  another  female  ser- 
vant for  the  house. 

Curious  to  know  more  about  his  new  slave  than  could 
be  learned  while  the  sale  was  in  progress,  he  ascertained 
that  she  had  been  brought  to  market  by  a  dapper, 
jovial  young  man  acting  as  agent  for  a  worn-out  gentle- 
man of  Spanish  extraction  who,  it  was  stated,  had  his 
own  special  reasons  for  selling. 

"She's  choice  property,"  said  the  young  man. 
"You'll  not  be  fooled  on  her.  Not  often  you  get  her 
breed.  Her  mammy  came  from  the  West  Indies." 

This  was  as  definite  information  as  her  purchaser 
got  regarding  her  origin.  He  feared  for  a  time  that 
some  grievously  bad  quality  might  appear  in  her,  but 
she  proved  to  be  a  perfect  servant,  and  in  truth  so 
comported  herself  in  this  capacity  that  it  was  thought 
none  other  had  ever  equalled  or  could  equal  her. 
Never  failing  in  the  least  particular  to  show  the  defer- 
ence proper  to  her  station,  she  exhibited  all  the  tender 
assiduities  and,  so  far  as  was  possible  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, performed  all  the  functions,  of  a  thought- 
ful and  affectionate  daughter  in  a  household  to  which 
a  daughter  had  been  denied. 

Abner  Garrett,  the  son,  was  a  sensitive  and  somewhat 
fanciful  young  man,  independent  in  both  his  intellectual 
and  emotional  moods.  He  was  the  same  age  as  Mary. 
She  had  been  in  the  family  two  or  three  years  when, 


28  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

in  spite  of  the  social  disparity  between  them,  he  fell 
in  love  with  her.  He  was  startled  when  he  first  found 
that  frankness  required  him  to  admit  it  to  himself,  for 
he  realized,  even  though  no  worshipper  of  tradition, 
how  strong  were  the  barriers  that  lay  between  him  and 
a  union  with  her.  But  he  became  bold  enough  to  level 
them  all. 

The  relation  between  him  and  his  father  had  always 
been  confidential,  and  he  therefore,  not  without  many 
misgivings,  opened  his  heart  to  the  elder  Garrett  on 
this  matter  of  his  affection  for  the  bondsmaid.  He 
proposed  to  take  her  north  and  there  marry  her,  and 
so  avoid  scandal  and  social  ostracism.  He  denied,  and 
perhaps  with  some  reason,  that  there  was  a  drop  of 
negro  blood  in  her  veins. 

The  father's  surprise  quickly  turned  into  positive 
anger.  He  ridiculed  the  idea  that  was  in  his  son's 
mind,  declared  that  by  mentioning  the  subject  even  in 
this  private  way  he  had  disgraced  the  family,  and  said 
he  hoped  he  would  never  think  or  speak  of  it  again. 

It  was  not  long  after  that,  and  when  his  love  had 
been  intensified  by  observation  of  the  specially  attentive 
and  kind  ministrations  of  Mary  to  his  afflicted  mother, 
that  young  Garrett  spoke  out  of  the  abundance  of 
his  heart  also  to  his  gentler  parent.  She  raised  her 
head  from  her  pillow  and  with  a  look  of  disgust  said : 
"Shocking!" 

That  was  all. 

A  year  after  his  mother  had  been  laid  in  her  grave 
Abner  had  the  conversation  with  his  father  which  was 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  29 

set  forth  at  the  beginning  of  this  story.  He  left  the 
room  abruptly  in  silent  rage,  and,  repeating  in  his  mind 
"Your  divine  wench,"  "A  slave,"  "Would  father  the 
child/'  "  Will  sell  them  both,"  he  went  straightway  to 
the  cabin  near  by,  where  Mary  now  lodged,  picked  up 
the  four-weeks-old  baby,  kissed  it  fervently,  and  looked 
for  the  first  time  and  for  a  long  time  on  the  face  of  his 
own  child. 

Shortly  the  death  of  his  father  permitted  young 
Garrett  to  execute  without  remonstrance  the  plans  he 
had  cherished.  He  freed  the  negroes  that  came  to  him 
with  the  estate,  and  sold  the  old  plantation.  For  some 
time  he  had  been  making  inquiries  cautiously  about  a 
desirable  locality  for  a  home  in  the  not  too  distant 
north,  and  on  one  pretext  and  another  he  had  made 
excursions  into  several  portions  of  it. 

He  now  chose  a  spot  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  river 
in  Indiana,  and  this  for  two  reasons  chiefly.  One  was 
that  he  would  still  be  in  sight  of  the  old  home,  as  he 
called  the  whole  south  now,  for  always  in  view  were  the 
Kentucky  hills,  and  the  steamboats  passing  up  the 
river,  bearing  cargoes  of  stuffs  with  which  he  was  so 
familiar,  would  exhale  a  fragrance  of  the  sunny  land 
and  convey  intangible  messages  soothing  to  the  home- 
sickness which  he  feared  he  might  always  feel.  The 
other  reason  was  that  in  this  county  some  abolitionists 
from  Ohio  had  just  established  a  general  school,  known 
as  Eleutherian  College,  open  to  children  and  youth, 
black  or  white.  Garrett  presumed  that  such  an  insti- 
tution would  not  be  located  amid  environments  uncon- 


30  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

genial,  and  he  therefore  took  it  for  granted  that  he  and 
his  wife  were  entering  a  social  atmosphere  of  a  sort  that 
would  be  agreeable  to  them  or  at  least  not  offensive. 
He  did  not  then  know  that  the  erection  of  the  school 
buildings  had  been  delayed  by  incendiaries  and  that 
there  were  elements  in  the  whole  country  roundabout 
that  later  would  furnish  recruits  to  the  "Knights  of 
the  Golden  Circle." 

Though  Mrs.  Garrett  might  pass  for  a  white  woman, 
it  was  her  husband's  expectation  that,  sooner  or  later, 
it  would  become  known  she  had  been  a  slave,  and  such 
knowledge  would  necessarily  involve  her  being  regarded 
as  of  tainted  blood;  a  conclusion,  too,  to  which  even 
the  beauty  of  her  face  and  figure,  having  the  volup- 
tuousness and  some  of  the  hue  and  fire  of  the  tropics 
in  it,  would  contribute.  Garrett  surmised,  however, 
that,  under  all  the  circumstances,  this  fact  would  have 
no  considerable  influence  in  determining  the  nature 
of  the  social  treatment  they  would  receive. 

Garrett's  new  farm  stretched  along  the  top  of  the 
bluff  for  a  mile  and  a  half,  and  back  from  the  bluff  a 
third  of  that  distance.  It  had  all  the  main  appoint- 
ments of  a  southern  plantation.  The  owner  fondly 
called  it  a  plantation,  and  by  that  designation  it  came 
to  be  known  for  miles  around.  In  remote  parts  of  it 
were  log  cabins  for  the  occupancy  of  the  men  who  were 
hired  by  the  year.  Picked  up  and  put  down  on  the 
banks  of  some  Alabama  river,  the  house  yard  set  with 
a  few  of  the  more  delicate  warm-climate  shrubs,  one 
field  shorn  of  its  wheat  and  covered  with  the  deep 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  31 

green  of  a  tobacco  crop,  and  another  stripped  of  its 
corn  and  blanched  with  cotton,  it  would  not  have 
seemed  out  of  place  among  its  new  neighbors.  Only, 
before  this  transportation,  it  would  have  been  neces- 
sary to  fill  up  the  ice  pond,  excavated  in  the  midst  of 
the  beech  woods,  and  substitute  for  the  beech  another 
tree. 

A  southern  atmosphere  seemed  over  it  all,  so  that 
indeed  it  did  appear  out  of  place  where  it  was.  But 
this  gave  it  a  singular  interest  and  a  picturesqueness 
which  never  failed  to  impress  everyone  who  became 
acquainted  with  the  place. 

The  river,  a  mile  away  and  below,  flowed  straight 
south  here,  and  the  house  might  have  been  built  to 
face  the  magnificent  scene  presented,  but  it  was  the 
whim,  if  we  should  call  it  that,  of  Garrett  that  it  should 
front  north,  and  in  this  direction  the  view  was  almost 
as  grand,  though  not  so  expanded.  For  across  the 
highway  one  looked  down  into  a  deep  dell  with  wealth 
of  romantic  character  in  rugged  rock  and  noble  tree, 
whose  lowest  point  was  marked  by  a  little  stream,  the 
waters  of  which  had  always  such  merriment  and  vi- 
vacity that  they  seemed  just  to  have  heard  that  there 
was  such  a  big  playground  as  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and 
were  in  haste,  foolish  waters,  to  rush  thither  away. 

The  house,  partly  of  brick  and  partly  of  wood,  all 
painted  white,  was  in  its  general  aspect  of  typical 
southern  style,  and  in  all  its  interior  was  the  air  of 
comfort,  refinement  and  good  cheer. 

And  often  was  welcome  spoken  at  the  door,  for  Mr. 


32  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Garrett  was  fond  of  entertaining  a  friend.  Sometimes 
it  was  the  doctor  or  the  preacher  from  College  Hill  or 
a  judge  of  the  district  court  at  Madison  or  one  of  the 
county  officers.  Sometimes,  in  the  earlier  years  of 
his  residence,  the  congressman  from  the  district  would 
drive  down  to  spend  the  day  with  him.  Not  infre- 
quently he  had  several  of  these  together. 

And  the  Old  Plantation  was  a  delightful  place  to 
visit.  Not  only  was  it  a  well-kept  and  well-appointed 
country  seat,  but  it  had  that  unique  attraction  due  to 
the  southern  taste  of  its  owner,  which  had  been  made 
to  express  itself  in  so  many  physical  manifestations. 
And  to  these  allurements  must  always  be  added 
Garrett's  excellencies  as  a  host. 

But  erelong  a  chilling  wind  began  to  blow  against 
him.  There  were  certain  men  who  had  never,  save 
when  their  acquaintance  with  him  was  new,  brought 
their  wives  to  his  house.  He  found  before  long  that 
the  people  of  culture,  both  in  Madison  and  in  the 
country,  were  "talking"  about  Mrs.  Garrett,  and  he 
observed  that  something  like  that  very  sentiment  was 
abroad  that  he  had  fled  north  to  escape.  At  first  he 
was  inclined  to  suppose  that  it  was  confined  to  a  few, 
and  those  of  the  most  fastidious  sort.  He  had,  how- 
ever, opportunity  soon  to  know  that  it  was  prevalent 
in  what  was  recognized  as  the  best  society. 

The  knowledge  fell  upon  his  spirit  like  a  pall.  It 
was  no  great  consolation  to  him  that,  as  the  slavery 
contest  waxed  warmer  and  others  drew  away  from  him, 
the  abolitionists  seemed  to  draw  closer  to  him,  for  he 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  33 

had  not  enough  of  the  martyr  disposition  to  relish 
belonging  to  a  despised  sect.  He  had  been  wearied 
often,  also,  by  the  continual  reform  talk  which  he  heard 
from  his  friends  among  the  abolitionists,  and  his 
patience  had  been  sorely  tried  by  listening  to  denun- 
ciations of  slaveholders  which  he  knew  were  unjust  and 
undeserved. 

However,  he  allowed  the  good  people  who  came  down 
from  College  Hill  to  get  no  suspicion  of  his  whole  sen- 
timent toward  them,  and  it  was  easy  for  him  to  main- 
tain such  a  degree  of  confidence  and  familiarity  with 
them  as  could  be  based  on  a  rational  respect  that  did 
not  amount  to  affection. 

Finding  himself  thus  neglected  by  most  of  those 
whose  esteem  he  prized  and  whose  society  he  coveted, 
Mr.  Garrett,  strongly  prone  to  melancholy,  had  many 
an  hour  of  black  depression.  Occasionally  he  would 
resolve  to  boldly  contradict  the  now  commonly  accepted 
report  that  Mrs.  Garrett  had  negro  blood  by  an  open 
and  positive  announcement  to  the  contrary,  and  by 
giving  out  the  facts  concerning  her  origin  as  she  held 
them,  which  were,  in  short,  that  she  was  of  white  and 
Creole  parentage,  and  that  the  curse  of  servitude  first 
fell  on  her  line  through  some  cunning  and  wicked 
device  of  which  her  mother  was  the  victim. 

But  the  only  progress  Garrett  could  make  with  this 
resolution  was  to  unresolve  it,  for,  aside  from  a  pride 
that  could  not  bend  to  a  defence  in  a  matter  of  this  kind, 
sure  to  bring  on  argument  and  controversy,  what  posi- 
tive proof  had  he?  Only  the  legend  of  a  slave  girl  to 


34  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

which  constant  credence  had  not  been  given  even  by 
himself. 

And  there  was  the  chief  fact  that  his  wife  had  been 
a  slave.  And  it  would  be  asked,  too,  why  he  had  come 
north  then.  If  his  wife  had  not  the  fatal  ingredient 
that  damned  the  whole  result,  fair  as  it  was,  why  did 
he  not  prove  this  and  remain  in  the  south  that  he  loved 
so  well? 

Therefore  Garrett  concluded  that  by  saying  a  word 
he  would  only  make  himself  laughed  at.  So  he  said 
nothing,  but  he  began  a  suffering  that  ended  only  with 
his  last  breath. 

"They  like  very  well  to  get  out  for  a  day's  drive," 
he  would  observe  bitterly,  in  speaking  of  certain  men 
in  Madison  who  continued,  when  the  weather  was  good, 
to  call  occasionally  and  remain  for  dinner.  "They 
like  to  come  down  the  road  along  the  river.  They  like 
the  country  feast  I  give  them,  and  to  smack  their  lips 
over  my  wine.  Then  they  go  home  and  crack  jokes 
about  my  wife." 

His  demeanor  toward  these  coarse  spirits  became 
colder.  He  found  a  quiet  way  of  decreasing  the  fre- 
quency of  their  visits  by  insinuating  that  he  was  not 
running  a  club  house  for  the  entertainment  of  Jefferson 
county  gentlemen. 

The  beautiful  wife  was  not  made  acquainted  with 
the  full  depth  of  her  husband's  disappointment.  Even 
if  he  had  been  inclined  to  communicate  it  to  her 
it  would  have  been  quite  impossible,  for  she  had  not 
the  profundity  of  feeling  to  appreciate  it.  Her  dispo- 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  35 

sition  was  rather  that  of  a  child.  She  was  less  sensitive 
to  the  judgment  of  the  world.  Her  spirits  were  of 
such  a  natural  liveliness  as  that  a  long-continued  de- 
pression of  them  was  out  of  the  question.  She  could 
on  the  occasion  feel  with  keenness  the  smart  of  offense, 
but  the  pain  was  over  with  the  hour.  Her  home  and 
her  immediate  neighborhood  were  large  enough  a 
world  for  her  to  be  perfectly  happy  in. 

Garrett's  ambition,  like  that  of  a  southern  planter, 
had  been  to  have  a  large  circle  of  acquaintances,  to 
be  on  close  terms  with  families  of  standing  and  dis- 
tinction near  and  far,  to  maintain  a  home  whose  soft 
influences  would  be  so  charming  that  it  would  be  held 
worth  the  while  and  the  pains  to  make  even  a  long 
journey  to  get  for  a  day  or  a  week  within  their  imme- 
diate operation.  He  aspired  to  be,  in  short,  a  man  held 
in  esteem  and  considered  of  importance  in  his  county 
and  state. 

His  progress  toward  this  altogether  worthy  eminence 
had  now  been  stopped,  and  he  realized  that  the  closed 
way  would  never  be  reopened.  Continuing  to  be  an 
interested  observer  of  the  general  events  of  his  time,  his 
activities  were  henceforth  to  be  confined  to  the  world 
with  which  his  wife  was  content — his  home  and  his 
neighborhood.  Living  around  him  were  few  people  of 
superior  intelligence  and  means.  It  could  be  noticed 
that  some  of  these  grew  cold,  though  not  to  the  point 
of  withholding  any  of  the  common  civilities,  while  the 
friendship  and  regard  of  others  of  their  class  remained 
to  all  outward  appearances  unimpaired. 


36  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

The  rest  of  the  nearby  population,  composed  exclu- 
sively of  farmers,  did  not  much  trouble  itself  with  the 
problem  that  those  of  higher  pretensions  had  felt 
called  on  to  solve.  Sometimes  the  neighbors  would 
discuss  Mrs.  Garrett  in  the  most  private  and  confidential 
way,  and  thus  give  voice  in  a  whisper  to  what  was 
the  prevailing  substratum  of  sentiment  respecting  her. 
This  it  is  hard  to  exactly  describe.  There  was,  as  has 
been  indicated,  just  enough  in  her  looks  to  give  plau- 
sibility to  the  charge — for  that  it  was — that  the  blood 
of  the  abased  race  had  tinged  her  skin.  This  and  the 
fact  that  she  had  once  been  yoked  with  the  blackest 
of  that  race  in  bondage  told  against  her.  But  little 
Julia — hair  like  the  sunshine  and  face  like  a  peach; 
followed  by  Walter,  as  if  by  a  handful  of  stormcloud, 
for  his  hair  was  as  black  as  night  and  his  countenance 
was  swarthy;  but  he  by  Dan,  blue  eye,  light  hair  and 
fair  complexion,  like  his  sister  and  his  father — the 
children  illustrated  'the  alternation  of  conviction  and 
doubt  with  respect  to  the  mother  of  them  all.  She 
was  in  the  twilight  zone  between  the  races  where  each 
might  claim  her,  and  in  this  same  atmosphere  all  who 
stood  near  her  were  in  varying  degrees  and  with 
varying  results  enveloped. 

Garrett  henceforth,  outside  of  his  own  family  circle, 
conducted  himself  with  more  reserve  than  had  been 
his  wont;  but  within  that  circle  his  affections,  always 
warm,  came  to  be  in  a  state  of  glow.  His  tenderness 
toward  his  children  was  lavish  and  unvarying,  and,  in 
the  case  of  his  boys,  carried  him  into  indulgence  that 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  37 

was  harmful  to  them,  for  they  were  high-spirited  and 
imperious  fellows  who  could  not  relinquish  at  a  hint, 
as  Julia  could,  a  desire  that  found  not  instant  favor 
with  their  father.  His  judgment  was  good,  but 
intensity  of  affection  mingled  with  a  fusive  sympathy 
— the  very  thing  that  causes  some  parents  to  be  stern 
— prevented  him  from  being  firm. 

While  his  fatherly  attention  to  the  two  sons  and 
his  pride  in  them  were  unusual,  his  favorite  was  Julia. 
He  could  not  be  with  the  boys  so  much  as  with  her, 
for  their  various  and  frequent  enterprises  of  diversion 
or  amusement  took  them  much  from  home  into  all 
the  surrounding  country.  Julia  was  a  home  girl,  and 
more  available  as  a  companion  on  little  horseback 
journeys  or  skiff  rides  on  the  river  or  numberless 
aesthetic  undertakings  about  the  house  and  garden, 
in  which  she  shared  all  the  interest  and  pleasure  shown 
by  her  father. 

But  Abner  Garrett's  beneficence  could  not  be  con- 
fined within  the  walls  of  his  own  house.  It  diffused 
itself  over  the  community  and  stole  quietly  into  the 
home  of  many  a  neighbor  soon  after  strait  or  distress 
was  known  to  have  made  its  way  in  there.  Besides, 
he  had  built  at  his  own  expense,  a  mile  away,  a  church 
edifice  which  he  gave  over  to  a  congregation  of  Bap- 
tists, and  contributed  the  larger  part  of  the  not  enor- 
mous pay  of  a  preacher  who  held  services  once  a  month. 
Before  the  building  of  this  church  Garrett  had  been 
accustomed  to  attend  frequently,  with  his  family,  the 
church  at  College  Hill,  but  one  day,  as  they  were  passing 


38  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

out,  they  heard  the  whisper,  "She's  colored,"  from  a 
knot  of  women  at  one  side.  To  that  church  they  went 
no  more,  and  presently  the  roof  of  the  new  edifice 
could  be  seen  from  Garrett's  house  rising  beyond  the 
hill-top  in  the  pasture. 

He  had,  as  well,  furnished  more  than  half  the  money 
for  the  purchase  of  a  township  library  of  several 
hundred  volumes,  one  of  the  first  and  one  of  the  best 
of  such  institutions  of  popular  education  and  culture, 
still  too  few,  as  in  most  places  else,  in  southern  Indiana. 

The  people  of  the  community,  taken  as  a  whole, 
were  grateful  enough  for  these  kindnesses,  and,  as 
occasion  came,  were  frank  enough  to  express  their 
appreciation.  They  felt,  too,  that  the  Plantation,  a 
novelty  among  the  farming  establishments  in  that  part 
of  the  countiy,  always  well  kept  up,  the  seat  of  a 
family  which  was  the  object  of  much  interest  and  hi 
which  there  was  some  mystery,  distinguished  the 
vicinity  and  threw  a  glamor  over  the  entire  township. 
Garrett  knew  all  this,  but  he  felt  that  there  was  in 
the  common  minds  of  others  a  stigma  upon  himself 
and  his  own. 

Until  Julia  died  Mr.  Garrett  had  never  failed  to 
make  sport  of  the  superstition  of  his  wife  as  it  from 
time  to  time  came  to  the  surface.  But  from  that 
hour  it  began  to  take  hold  on  him.  In  his  lighter 
moods  he  would  scout  the  notion  still.  But  let  him 
think  of  the  early  morning  when  Julia  went  away,  and 
the  vision  would  appear  of  the  catalpa  tree  with  the 
sombre  death-herald  in  its  top.  Then  he  would  re- 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  39 

member  the  lore  that  his  wife  had  taught  him  in  these 
gloomy  matters. 

Had  not  the  plaintive  chirping  of  the  canary  in  its 
cage  in  the  next  room  aroused  his  mother  a  half  hour 
before  her  end  came  so  that  she  might  face  death  fully 
awake? 

Did  he  do  right  to  make  light  of  it  when  his  wife 
told  him  that  at  the  very  moment  when  he  must  have 
been  listening  to  the  imprecations  of  his  father,  baby 
Julia,  though  only  a  month  old,  appeared,  like  a  grown 
person,  to  be  listening  attentively  to  something,  and 
ended  by  giving  her  mother  a  strangely  serious  look? 
Had  not  that  hour  been  a  crisis? 

Was  it  not  a  fact  that  a  swallow  came  and  left  on 
the  porch  a  red  dogwood  leaf  a  few  days  before  the 
night  when  the  whole  Plantation  was  lighted  up  by 
the  burning  of  the  barn? 

A  week  before  he  had  been  defrauded  in  a  business 
transaction  had  not  Walter  found  a  black  snake  coiled 
up  on  the  front  walk? 

Had  not  a  squirrel  been  found  scratching  its  ear 
on  the  top  of  the  pump  the  very  day  before  the  report 
came  that  Mayor  Ripley  of  Madison  had  said:  "Mr. 
Garrett  is  a  very  fine  man,  a  polite,  perfect  gentleman, 
but  he  spoiled  himself  when  he  married  a  nigger"? 


These  things  and  a  hundred  like  them  were  running 
through  Abner  Garrett's  mind  on  this  restless  night 
following  the  robbery.  He  recalled,  too,  that  Walter's 


40  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

favorite  pony  one  afternoon  had  come  up  near  the 
house,  put  its  head  over  the  fence  and  whinnied  pite- 
ously  and  long  at  about  the  same  hour,  it  was  after- 
wards learned,  as  Walter  had  been  insulted  at  his 
college  in  Ohio  by  a  coarse  remark  about  his  mother, 
and  that  the  pony,  about  as  soon  as  Walter  had  had 
time  to  thrash  the  rowdy,  kicked  up  its  heels,  held  high 
its  head,  and  pranced  proudly  about  the  orchard. 

This  recollection  reminded  Garrett  that  he  must  in 
the  morning  send  a  letter  to  Walter,  who  was  spending 
the  early  part  of  his  vacation  under  the  tutelage  of 
one  of  the  college  professors. 

"  Well  will  it  be  if  the  hawk  had  only  to  do  with  the 
robbery,"  thought  the  distressed  man.  "But  it 
lowered  itself  over  Bertha.  Was  she  designated  too? 
Or  did  the  hawk  fly  on  only  because  her  time  was  not 
yet  come?" 

The  dawn  broke  and  Mr.  Garrett  arose. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
"SHIFTLESS  HENRY." 

"HEY  there,  'Shif/  why  have  you  a  white  shirt  on 
today,  and  why  are  you  chalking  it?  " 

Walter  Garrett  thus  accosted  "Shiftless  Henry" 
one  bright  morning  in  June.  Walter  and  his  father 
occupied  easy  chairs  on  the  shaded  front  porch,  and 
Henry  was  shambling  his  way  through  the  gate.  He 
was  pushing  against  it  with  his  body  to  make  progress, 
for  both  hands  were  engaged  at  his  bosom.  A  white 
front  beamed  forth  there  as  if  glad  to  be  out  in  the 
daylight  again,  and  Henry  was  using  a  piece  of  school 
crayon  on  it  with  a  dexterity  of  movement  quite 
uncommon  with  him. 

The  lank,  genial  fellow  came  stalking  along  up  the 
walk  with  a  smile  which  spread  over  every  part  of  his 
countenance.  He  shook  hands  with  both  men  and 
then,  turning  to  Walter,  said : 

"You  athk  two  quethtionth  though  they  are  ex- 
theedingly  clothe  together.  I  will  anther  them  in 
the  order  in  which  they  were  athked.  Firtht,  I  have 
a  white  shirt  on  for  the  reathon  that  thith  ith  surely 
a  day  to  celebrate.  You  think  it  ith  a  day  to  celebrate, 
do  you  not?" 

And  he  laughed  so  loud  that  everyone  about  the  house 
had  instant  and  unmistakable  intelligence  that  he  was 
on  the  ground. 

41 


42  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"But  besidth  your  affair,"  he  continued,  "I  alwayth 
have  a  white  shirt  on  on  the  eighteenth  of  June,  for 
you  see  thith  ith  the  anniverthary  of  the  battle  of 
Waterloo,  and  you  know  my  father  wath  a  soldier  on 
the  Britith  thide  in  that  great  conflict.  Yeth,  thir, 
sixty-three  yearth  ago  today.  If  my  father  wath 
alive  today  he  would  be  eighty-three  yearth  old,  and 
he  would  have  a  white  shirt  on  too,  I  allow." 

"Why,  this  is  something  new,"  said  Walter.  "You 
didn't  use  to  do  it." 

"Ever  sinth  I  had  a  white  shirt  and  coming  to  the 
yearth  of  understanding.  Now  you  see,  besidth,  Dan 
ith  going  to  start  hith  new  boat  today.  Leavth  Cin- 
cinnati thith  morning,  don't  he?  And  will  get  down 
here  thith  evening  to  take  you  to  New  Orleanth.  I 
thought  that  wath  worth  celebrating." 

"Yes,  I  see,"  said  Walter.  "Your  white  shirt  is 
eminently  proper.  You  have  lots  of  cause  to  celebrate." 

"Well,  you  have  cauthe  to  celebrate  yerself,  I  allow," 
and  Henry's  gaunt  form  bent  almost  double  while  he 
coughed  out  a  huge  volume  of  laughter.  Walter  and  his 
father  were  both  shaking  at  the  spectacle  he  presented. 
He  vomited  forth  his  mirth.  At  this  moment  he  might 
with  the  utmost  propriety  have  been  sent  away  to 
an  emergency  hospital  for  the  tickled.  So  convoluted 
was  his  face  that  it  seemed  the  bones  beneath  must 
have  been  wrinkled  too. 

But  presently  he  had  convalesced  as  far  back  as  to 
his  flesh-deep  smile. 

"Now  ath  to  the  second  quethtion,"  said  he,  "why 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  43 

I  chalk  my  shirt.  My  primary  object,  of  courthe,  ith 
to  cover  up  defekth.  Shirt  geth  a  little  soiled  or  some 
tobacco  juith  geth  on  it,  can  cover  it  up  so  that  it  ith 
just  ath  good  ath  at  firtht.  I  can  make  a  shirt  last 
me  a  long  time  that  way.  I  do  thith  further  for 
reathonth  of  philanthropy  and  convenient!!.  It  savth 
washing,  and  henth  my  mother,  who  ith  getting  pretty 
old  now,  ith  relieved  of  a  good  deal  of  a  burden,  and  it 
ith  very  convenient  to  wear  the  same  shirt  for  a  long 
time." 

"'Shif,'  you  are  getting  to  be  an  inventor,"  said 
Walter.  "You  will  do  some  great  thing  yet.  But 
where  do  you  get  the  chalk?" 

"Oh,  the  neighborth  children  bring  it  from  the 
schoolhouse  for  me.  It  don't  take  but  one  pieth  a 
year.  But  now  let  me  offer  my  congratulathionth. 
Who'd  ever  thought  you'd  be  married  at  last?  My  best 
wisheth,"  and  Henry  bent  again  with  loud  haw-haws. 

"Thank  you,  'Shif,'  and  I  know  you  mean  it,"  said 
Walter  as  he  grasped  tightly  his  friend's  big  hand. 
"  But  you  must  see  my  wife,"  and  he  ran  into  the  house 
to  bring  her.  He  was  not  long  gone. 

"  Ida,  this  is  Mr.  Anthony,"  he  said  as  he  led  out  the 
door  a  frail  little  doll  of  a  woman.  Then  followed  an 
exhibition  of  much  grace  on  the  one  side  and  much 
awkwardness  on  the  other  which  ended  with  Henry's 
saying : 

"  Now  let  me  wish  to  you  ath  I  did  to  your  husband, 
and  to  both  of  you  here  together,  much  happineth  and 
a  safe  voyage  on  the  sea  of  matrimony." 


44  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Saying  which,  Henry  gave  the  dainty  woman  whom 
Walter  had  chosen  for  his  wife  a  pretty  thorough 
looking-over.  She  was  not  a  little  embarrassed  at  the 
directness  with  which  he  gazed  upon  her  and  took  her 
measure  and  her  weight  with  his  eye.  But  he  had  no 
suspicion  that  he  was  violating  any  of  the  canons  of 
decorum.  Once  in  a  while  she  would  glance  up  at 
him,  expecting  each  tune  that  his  scrutiny  would  be 
intermitted,  but  she  would  find  his  eyes  still  on  her, 
and  he  would  smile — such  a  smile,  though,  as  everyone 
could  see,  was  simply  benignant.  He  was  not  quick 
enough  to  satisfy  himself  in  regard  to  her  without  this 
intent  survey.  Had  he  not  a  right  to  look  at  her, 
to  really  look  at  her?  He  had  had  opportunity,  and 
been  welcome,  to  make  a  far  closer  examination  of 
every  other  novelty  her  husband  had  ever  secured  in 
his  whole  life  up  to  that  hour — the  ponies,  the  watches, 
the  dogs,  the  guns — and  was  his  inspection  to  be 
less  faithful  when  so  interesting  a  thing  as  a  wife  was 
brought  home?  No,  indeed.  He  was  too  conscientious. 

The  new  Mrs.  Garrett  went  through  the  ordeal  very 
bravely.  She  told  Henry  she  was  delighted  to  meet 
any  of  Walter's  old  friends.  He  replied  that  he  was 
so  to  meet  any  of  his  new  ones,  and  "espethially  a 
friend  that  wath  to  stick  closer  than  a  brother." 

"He's  just  as  long  and  lean  and  lank  as  ever,  Ida," 
said  Walter. 

"Better  long  and  lean  and  lank  than  fat,"  said 
Henry.  "You  know  that  if  you  must  be  too  lean  or 
too  fat,  it  ith  better  to  be  the  former.  Do  you  know 
why?" 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  45 

He  directed  the  inquiry  to  Ida.  She  answered  that 
she  was  not  sure  that  she  did. 

"It  ith  just  the  differenth  between  one  load  and 
two  loadth,"  he  informed  her.  "He  who  ith  too  fat 
carrieth  both  the  reproach  of  being  too  fat  and  the 
fat  itself.  He  who  ith  too  lean  hath  only  the  reproach. 
He  hath  no  physical  burden  along  with  it,  and  the 
reproach  alone  may  not  be  very  heavy." 

Henry  then  proceeded  to  make  his  apology  for  not 
having  called  sooner,  for  Walter  and  his  wife  had  been 
there  three  days.  It  was  that  he  had  not  heard  about 
their  arrival  until  late  the  evening  before,  and  it  was 
one  of  his  tenets  that  ignorance  was  a  valid  excuse  for 
any  delinquency.  He  said  that  one  of  the  greatest 
mistakes  of  jurisprudence  was  that  this  doctrine  was 
not  allowed  in  case  of  violation  of  law. 

It  was  an  eventful  day.  Walter  was  there  with  his 
bride,  whom  the  family  had  never  seen  before.  After 
a  good  deal  of  fruitless  dabbling  in  art  and  of  travel- 
ing, Walter  had  decided  to  be  a  lawyer  and  on  the  very 
day  that  he  received  his  diploma  as  bachelor  of  laws  at 
Ann  Arbor  he  was  married  and  set  off  with  his  bride 
for  a  year  in  Europe.  He  was  now  going  to  set  up  in 
his  profession  in  New  Orleans,  a  plan  which  consid- 
erably pleased  his  father,  who  thought  that  perhaps  it 
was  not  too  soon  for  the  family  to  get  back  to  the  dear 
south,  a  new  south  now,  after  the  exile  of  one  genera- 
tion. 

Dan  had  at  length  realized  his  dream  of  having  a 
steamboat  of  his  own,  the  finest  on  the  river,  and 


46  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

what  a  pleasant  thing  it  was  that  on  the  vessel's  first 
trip  from  Cincinnati  to  New  Orleans  it  was  to  carry 
his  brother  and  his  wife  to  their  chosen  home.  This 
matter  of  the  boat,  also,  was  one  that  the  elder  Garrett 
liked,  for  that  would  make  Dan  as  much  a  southerner 
as  northerner  and  would  at  length  get  him  at  some- 
thing worth  while. 

Walter  had  spent  at  college,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
years  before  and  since,  what  ten  poor  boys  might 
have  comfortably  gone  through  on,  and  Dan  had  squan- 
dered several  little  fortunes  in  ill-judged  and  foolishly 
managed  business  adventures.  The  father  had  grieved 
a  good  deal  about  this,  not  more  because  it  had  told 
sadly  on  his  holdings  than  because  it  gave  him  the 
apprehension  that  the  loved  sons  were  not  going  to 
make  their  mark.  He  was  glad  they  had  been  able  to 
lord  it  over  those  who,  as  it  did  happen  from  time  to 
time,  threw  out  the  slyest  of  hints  about  their  blood. 
The  more  readily  he  kept  them  in  funds  on  this  account. 
He  was  delighted  that  Walter  had  been  accepted 
without  hesitation  by  so  amiable  a  girl,  but  he  was 
dreading  lest  here  under  his  own  roof  her  mind  might 
become  poisoned  by  suspicion,  for  Mrs.  Garrett's 
physical  peculiarities  were  being  rather  accentuated 
by  age. 

But  were  the  boys  cursed  through  him? 

Here  at  last  was  to  be  a  turning  point. 

And  Professor  Augustus  Bland  of  College  Hill  was 
coming  down  to  take  dinner  with  them  and  be  one  of 
the  party  to  go  down  to  the  boat  to  see  the  happy 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  47 

couple  off.  The  same  carriage  that  had  been  sent  to 
bring  him  would  bring  Bertha,  too,  who  was  about  to 
finish  her  third  year  at  the  Hill. 

"So,  'Shif,'  you  are  well  to  be  on  the  ground,"  said 
Walter,  "and  if  you  hadn't  come  we  would  have  sent 
for  you.  You  shall  stay  and  see  us  off  at  the  river." 

Henry  allowed  he  had  already  "calkilated"  as  much. 

The  elder  Mrs.  Garrett  appeared  just  as  this  ar- 
rangement was  being  made,  and  said  "Yes  indeed" 
both  to  Walter's  imperious  invitation  and  to  Henry's 
answer,  and  she  added:  "How  could  we  have  any  big 
doin's  like  this  without  you  bein'  aroun',  Henry?" 

Henry  laughed  a  little  very  complacently  at  the 
compliment  implied  in  this. 

"Well,  I'm  a  little  like  molasseth,"  said  he.  "I  do 
seem  to  stick  to  everything  I  wunth  touch,  and  I  allow 
I'm  something  of  a  nuisanthe  thometimeth." 

"Of  cou'se  you  ah.  We'll  have  you  make  up  fo' 
it  by  tyin'  some  of  the  boxiz  we'ah  fixin'  up  fo'  these 
young  folks,"  said  Mrs.  Garrett. 

The  two  women  went  into  the  house  to  attend  to 
some  of  the  packing  they  had  on  hand,  and  the  three 
men  had  most  of  the  forenoon  to  themselves  on  the 
porch. 

"So  Bertha  hath  not  come  down  yet,"  observed 
Henry. 

"No,"  said  Abner  Garrett,  "they're  just  now  finish- 
ing up  the  work  of  the  year  at  the  school,  and  it  is  a 
bad  time  for  her  to  get  away  even  for  a  day.  She  will 
get  to  see  her  brother  and  her  sister-in-law  only  today, 


48  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

but  we've  told  her  we'll  let  her  take  a  trip  to  New 
Orleans  to  visit  them  later  in  the  summer." 

"That  will  be  nithe  for  her.  I  reckon  she  ith  right 
smart  of  a  student,  ithn't  she?  " 

"She's  doing  fine,"  answered  Garrett. 

Henry  nodded  his  head  with  much  satisfaction,  and 
then,  turning  to  Walter,  said  : 

"So,  Walter,  you've  been  reading  the  lawth.  Well, 
you  ought  to  make  a  good  lawyer.  Must  be  quite  a 
job  to  read  over  all  of  'em,  but  you  ought  to  make  a 
good  one.  Reckon  you  know  more  about  the  lawth 
than  you  did  twelve  yearth  ago,  eh?  "  and  he  began  to 
laugh,  but  he  stopped,  for  a  look  of  pain  passed  over 
Mr.  Garrett's  face  and  a  cloud  came  across  Walter's. 
He  could  never  make  a  laughing  matter  of  those 
events  of  twelve  years  ago. 

The  robbery  had  been  followed  by  something  worse. 

Walter  had  been  promptly  informed  by  letter  of  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  crime,  and  had  hastened  home 
in  wrathful  impetuosity  to  avenge  the  outrage  on  his 
family.  He  berated  Dan  and  the  hired  man  George 
with  much  warmth  for  tamely  submitting,  as  he  put  it, 
to  such  insult  and  injury.  Why  did  they  not  collar 
the  villains  and  choke  or  kick  the  life  out  of  them  on 
the  spot?  And,  anyway,  why  did  they  not  continue 
in  pursuit  of  them  until  they  had  at  least  made  sure 
who  they  were?  Were  there  not  other  skiffs  at  the 
river? 

For  a  week  the  infuriated  lad  stormed  about  the 
neighborhood  like  a  Harry  Hotspur,  and  by  the  end  of 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  49 

that  time  had  convinced  himself  and  several  others 
that  the  leader  of  the  robbers  must  have  been  Jack 
Simpson,  a  good-for-nothing,  mysterious  vagabond 
who  lived  with  two  disreputables  like  unto  himself 
several  miles  down  the  river.  How  could  there  be  any 
doubt  about  it?  Had  not  Dan  heard  his  very  name 
at  the  river  as  they  put  off?  Did  not  Simpson  have 
red  whiskers,  and  was  it  not  certain  that  he  had  had 
more  money  about  him  recently  than  ever  before  in 
his  life?  And  how  did  he  live,  how  could  he  live, 
except  by  stealing?  Mr.  Garrett,  it  was  true,  and  Dan 
and  the  hired  man  agreed  that  the  leader  was  a  larger 
man  than  Simpson,  but  Walter  explained  this  discrep- 
ancy in  an  instant  by  saying  that  in  the  excitement 
and  terror  of  the  moment  they  had  magnified  Simpson 
into  a  giant. 

Against  their  judgment,  George  and  Dan,  as  readily 
as  any  other  of  twenty  young  men  in  the  neighborhood, 
agreed  to  help  lynch  Simpson,  for  that  was  the  sort 
of  justice  that  the  still  angry  and  hot-headed  Walter 
had  decreed  he  should  receive. 

The  plan  wellnigh  carried  through.  Simpson's  head 
had  twice  struck  the  under  side  of  a  limb  with  a  violent 
bump,  when,  since  he  still  protested  his  innocence  in 
answer  to  commands  that  he  confess,  Walter  himself, 
who  with  most  force  had  pulled  the  rope,  was  stricken 
with  doubt  and  gave  the  order  to  gallop  away. 

The  sequel  to  the  night's  madness  was  that  every  one 
of  these  young  men  was  found  guilty  of  assault  and 
battery  and  fined  twenty-five  dollars  and  costs  at 


50  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Madison  a  few  weeks  later,  and  Abner  Garrett  footed 
the  bill. 

The  judgment  and  the  fines,  however,  which  had, 
indeed,  been  anticipated  from  the  first,  carried  small 
odium  compared  with  another  matter  at  the  trial. 
When,  to  prove  something  or  other,  in  extenuation 
(for  no  justification  was  attempted)  Mrs.  Garrett  was 
called  as  a  witness,  she  was  challenged  by  the  prose- 
cuting attorney,  who  had  himself  feasted  at  the  Garrett 
board  and  grown  merry  over  the  wine  poured  out  for 
him  there,  on  the  ground  that  she  was  a  colored  person 
and  therefore  under  the  law  of  the  state  incompetent  to 
testify.  The  question  might  have  been  argued,  but 
the  husband  would  not  allow  it,  and  at  a  suggestion 
from  him  the  defending  attorney  simply  withdrew  the 
call. 

The  circumstance,  happening,  as  it  did,  hi  a  public 
place,  in  the  presence  of  some  of  the  most  respectable 
men  in  the  county,  a  matter  to  go  down  in  the  records 
of  the  court,  mentioned  in  the  report  of  the  case  in  the 
town  papers,  reviving  the  offensive  gossip  regarding 
Mrs.  Garrett  which  for  years  had  been  quiet,  sounding 
forth  as  with  blast  of  trumpet  what  had  hitherto  been 
spoken  only  in  whispers,  was  to  Abner  Garrett  a  terrible 
calamity.  It  affected  him  as  the  death  of  a  child,  the 
loss  of  property  or  some  overwhelming  personal  dis- 
grace would  have  affected  another  man.  For  weeks 
afterward  he  brooded  over  it  silently  and  constantly, 
and  kept  ransacking  his  memory  to  discover  if  just 
before  the  trial  he  had  seen  any  strange  sight  or  heard 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  51 

any  strange  sound  that  might  have  portended  this 
galling  misfortune. 

But  there  was  no  time  for  the  unfortunate  reference 
just  made  by  "Shiftless  Henry"  to  turn  Garrett's  mind 
into  a  gloomy  channel,  for  in  an  instant  the  carriage 
bearing  Bertha  and  Prof.  Bland  was  observed  coming 
down  the  road,  with  Bertha  waving  her  handkerchief 
above  the  driver's  shoulder. 


CHAPTER  V. 
PUCK,  PREACHER  AND  PROPOSAL. 

A  BALLOON  view  of  the  scene  as  the  carriage  stopped 
at  the  little  gate  to  the  west  of  the  house  would  have 
shown  the  black  top  of  the  vehicle  and  six  other  phe- 
nomena crowding  to  its  side,  and  all  so  various  and 
animated  as  to  give  the  impression  of  some  gay  colors 
encircling  the  black. 

In  an  instant  a  lively  pink  object  bounds  from 
underneath  the  sable  shelter  and  is  seized  by  tentacles 
thrown  out  from  either  side  of  a  point  of  gray.  Re- 
leased from  this  embrace,  it  collides  in  turn,  as  if  there 
were  a  mutual  attraction  of  affinity,  with  three  of  the 
other  contiguous  bodies.  In  the  case  of  the  fifth  the 
pink  seems  to  be  seized  against  its  will,  for  its  arms 
are  extended  as  if  repellent;  and  when  the  turn  of  the 
sixth  comes,  which  is  a  more  irregular  object  than  any 
of  the  others,  it  is  observed  to  reach  out  a  long  arm 
with  a  long,  flat  extremity,  which  action  is  met  with  a 
similar  but  far  more  graceful  maneuver  on  the  part  of 
the  pink.  The  two  extensions  join,  and  the  cable  thus 
formed  vibrates  noticeably  at  the  sagging  point  in  the 
middle. 

But  so  interesting  a  performance  attracts  us  closer,  and 
we  descend,  indeed,  to  the  very  spot,  where  we  arrive  just 
in  time  to  see  Henry  all  in  a  blush  on  some  account, 

52 


He  turned  his  face  to  the  sky  and  with  a  most  kindly  smile. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  53 

and  pretty  Bertha  evidently  quite  put  out  because  Old 
Maggie  took  the  liberty  of  kissing  her  before  company, 
and  would  do  it  although  Bertha  sought  to  prevent  so 
familiar  an  approach. 

Professor  Eland's  exit  from  the  carriage  was  perforce 
much  more  deliberate  and  careful  than  Bertha's. 
First  came  a  crutch  whose  lower  end  was  placed  with 
great  precision  on  the  ground;  then  a  leg  with  the  be- 
longing foot  which  tried  its  bearing  on  the  step;  and 
then  the  professor  himself,  his  well-worn,  old,  stove- 
pipe hat  and  his  hard-worked  shoulder  first,  dragging 
on  his  other  side  a  dangling,  shrunken  leg,  which 
frail  as  it  was,  was  too  heavily  weighted  with  a  half- 
grown  and  misshapen  foot;  then  the  other  arm  and 
cane,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Walter  the  dear, 
afflicted  old  gentleman  was  safely  disembarked  and 
cordially  saluted  by  the  whole  company. 

He  turned  his  face  to  the  sky  and  with  a  most  kindly 
smile  quoted  Thompson  : 

But  happy  they,  the  happiest  of  their  kind, 

Whom  gentler  stars  unite,  and  in  one  fate 

Their  hearts,  their  fortunes  and  their  beings  blend. 

As  he  concluded  he  bestowed  a  benedictory  look, 
for  an  Amen  to  his  quotation,  upon  Walter  and  his 
bride. 

The  happy  company  then  passed  through  the  gate 
and  moved  in  careless  procession  to  the  house.  Right 
of  way  on  the  narrow  walk  was  given  to  the  late  arrivals, 
the  others  forming  on  either  side  an  attentive  escort. 


54  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Here  in  the  van,  as  she  well  deserved  to  be,  was  Bertha, 
of  beautiful  face  and  form,  vivacious,  with  a  delicate 
spring  and  suppleness  in  her  every  movement,  and 
endowed  with  a  thousand  outward  and  inward  graces, 
blooming  in  the  morning  of  life  like  a  rose  in  the  morning 
of  day  with  a  freshness  as  of  dawn  still  upon  her. 

Behind  her  the  old  professor,  maimed  and  deformed 
from  his  birth,  hobbling  along  between  crutch  and  cane, 
with  the  shrunken  leg  and  the  hanging  foot,  exhibiting 
in  every  movement  that  pitiful  awkwardness  which 
his  infirmity  imposed;  his  clothes  well-worn  but  not 
quite  shabby;  his  face  wrinkled  and  his  hair  whitened 
by  suffering  and  by  age;  alone  in  the  world;  one  on 
whom,  even  though  he  was  a  cripple,  time  had  laid  its 
hand  as  harshly  as  on  another.  More  pathetic  than 
this  it  was  that  the  professor  was  keenly  sensitive  to 
it  all.  A  poet's  soul  in  such  a  tenement  as  this!  It 
was  like  a  jewel  wrapped  in  a  rag — but  his  face  was  fine, 
as  the  rag  might  still  have  upon  it  one  bit  of  pretty 
tapestry.  To  hear  him  talk  about  the  things  he  loved 
— it  was  like  listening  to  the  singing  of  a  bird  with  a 
broken  wing. 

"To  think,  mamma,  that  Old  Maggie  should  grab 
me  and  hug  me  and  kiss  me  like  that  before  all  these 
people,"  said  Bertha  to  Mrs.  Garrett  up  in  her  room, 
where  she  had  gone  to  lay  off  her  hat  and  restore  all 
those  trifles  of  face  and  dress  disarranged  by  the 
j ourney .  "What  will  Ida  think ? " 

"Why,  Bertha,  she  won't  think  about  it  at  all.  She 
knows  Maggie's  been  in  our  family  sence  you  was  a 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  55 

baby.  She  won't  reckon  it  strange  that  she  loves  you 
enough  to  kiss  you  when  you've  been  away.  You 
remember  Maggie  used  to  tend  you  fo'  yeahs  and  yeahs 
when  you  was  a  chile,  and  she  thinks  as  much  of  you 
as  any  of  us." 

"As  much  as  papa  or  you?  No,  she  doesn't.  Any- 
how, she  should  not  act  that  way  before  all  these  people. 
She's  always  treating  me  as  if  I  were  a  baby.  I  don't 
mind  if  she  likes  me,  but  I  don't  want  her  to  make  a 
fuss  over  me  when  company  is  here." 

At  that  very  moment  poor  Old  Maggie  was  sitting  in 
the  kitchen  crying  because  Bertha  had  struggled  in  her 
arms  and  had  seemed  angry  because  she  kissed  her. 

Ida  had  noticed  the  struggle  at  the  carriage,  but  was 
astonished  that  it  should  affect  the  broken  old  servant 
so  deeply.  She  said  nothing,  for  Old  Maggie  was  now 
quite  hard  of  hearing,  but  she  placed  her  hand  on  the 
woman's  head. 

Old  Maggie  wiped  her  eyes.  Rising  from  her  chair 
and  bringing  her  sad  face  close  to  Ida's,  she  said  with 
brightening  countenance  and  much  animation  : 

"She's  a  good  girl.  She's  a  smart  girl,  and  she's 
making  a  perfect  lady.  I've  tended  her  since  she  was 
a  child.  Don't  you  think  she's  pretty?" 

Ida  nodded  her  head  with  an  assuring  compression 
of  the  lips  and  a  sparkle  in  her  eyes.  Old  Maggie 
nodded  to  make  the  agreement  perfect,  shifted  the 
coffee  pot  on  the  stove  and  resumed  the  slicing  of 
potatoes. 

Coming  down  stairs,  Bertha  hastened  to  see  to  it  that 


56  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

the  venerable  professor  was  given  a  cool  place  at  the 
north  side  of  the  house,  for  she  knew  how  fond  he  was 
of  sitting  out  of  doors.  She  plucked  him  a  fragrant 
rose  from  the  climbing  bush  at  the  porch.  He  put  the 
stem  between  his  teeth  and  thus  held  the  flower. 
She  had  hoped  he  would  do  this.  It  was  a  habit  of 
his  which  all  his  friends  liked  to  observe.  Many  and 
many  a  time,  as  he  hobbled  into  church  or  the  college 
chapel  with  a  flower  hanging  from  his  mouth,  did  he 
seem  thus  to  bring  a  tiny  bit  more  of  holiness  into  the 
sanctuary  or  a  little  brightness  and  freshness  to  con- 
trast with  the  dead  old  walls  and  benches  in  the  school- 
room. 

Here  he  sat  talking  with  Walter  and  his  father, 
while  "Shif"  ceased  not  to  give  him  close  and  curious 
consideration.  Bertha  re-entered  the  house  to  rejoin 
Mrs.  Garrett  and  Ida,  delaying  only  to  give  her  assist- 
ance in  arranging  for  the  dinner  until  she  should  bring 
Ida  to  a  window  that  the  latter  might  see  what  a  picture 
the  crippled  old  man  made  with  the  rose  in  his  mouth. 

Abner  Garrett,  in  response  to  Prof.  Eland's  inquiry, 
began  to  explain  why  Dan  would  not  tie  up  his  boat 
at  the  landing  and  spend  a  day  or  two  at  the  old  home. 
In  doing  this  he  proudly  recited,  though  with  some 
misgiving,  his  son's  own  reason  as  communicated  a 
few  days  earlier  by  letter.  This  was  that  Dan  was 
anxious  to  make  as  good  time  as  possible  with  the 
freight  that  was  going  aboard  for  different  points, 
seeing  this  was  the  boat's  first  trip  down.  The  father 
was  continuing  to  give  the  substance  of  what  Dan 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  57 

said  about  the  importance  of  a  good  record  for  the  first 
trip  when  he  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of 
"  Brother  Charles  "  at  the  gate. 

"Why,  no  preaching  nex'  Sunday?"  queried  "Shif," 
looking  at  Mr.  Garrett. 

"No,"  was  the  reply,  "and  I  can't  imagine  what 
brings  him  over  here  unless  there  is  to  be  a  funeral  or 
a  wedding  in  the  Stony  Greek  neighborhood." 

Rev.  Charles  Warner,  whose  home  was  several  miles 
over  on  the  Kentucky  side,  was  the  preacher  who  once 
a  month  conducted  what  he  always  called  "divine 
service  "  at  Good  Hope  church.  The  next  Sunday  was 
not  his  "regular  day"  either  here  or  at  the  other 
church,  five  miles  away,  over  which  he  also  had  charge, 
and  hence  Mr.  Garrett  conjectured  that  some  unusual 
occasion  had  brought  him  thus  out  of  time  to  this  side 
of  the  river. 

This  surmise  was  strengthened  when  it  was  observed 
as  he  came  up  the  walk  that  the  preacher  wore  a  con- 
fused expression  on  his  face.  It  seemed,  also,  though 
one  could  not  be  sure,  that  his  embarrassment  had 
some  serious  cause. 

He  took  the  first  moment  after  he  was  greeted  by 
"Shif,"  who  looked  a  good  deal  puzzled,  and  by  Mr. 
Garrett,  who  in  spite  of  himself  looked  a  trifle  so,  to 
explain  that  he  had  decided  to  spend  the  week  in 
"pastoral  visitation"  among  the  members  of  his  two 
Indiana  congregations.  He  professed  to  be  much 
surprised  to  find  Walter  at  home,  and  more  so  to  hear 
that  he  had  brought  with  him  a  bride.  The  presence 


58  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

of  Prof.  Bland,  with  whom  he  had  a  slight  acquaintance, 
and  of  Bertha,  was  equally,  he  declared,  outside  of  his 
expectations. 

Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  preacher  had  been 
informed  in  a  roundabout  way  of  the  whole  matter 
even  before  he  had  left  his  home  on  the  Kentucky  side. 
(Nobody  so  close  to  the  river  as  this  ever  spoke  of 
anyone,  unless  indeed  far  down  in  the  state,  as  living 
hi  Kentucky.  It  was  always  "on  the  Kentucky  side.") 
And  the  prospective  events  at  the  Old  Plantation  had 
been  the  subject  of  conversation  with  a  family  on  whom 
the  preacher  had  called  not  an  hour  before. 

But  "  Brother  Charles  "  was  welcome.  Both  Garrett 
and  his  son  declared  how  glad  they  were  that  they 
could  have  the  greetings  and  felicitations  of  the 
preacher  on  this  happy  day. 

"And  how  proper  it  is,"  said  the  old  professor  half 
seriously  and  with  a  kind  of  smile,  of  which  no  one 
could  ever  be  quite  sure  of  the  significance,  "  that  such 
an  important  day  in  the  family  history  as  this  has  the 
presence  of  the  minister  to  impart  to  the  events  a  kind 
of  sanctity  and  priestly  auspice." 

With  this,  Mr.  Warner  began  to  feel  as  if,  after  all, 
he  really  had  some  business  there,  though  he  did  not 
seem  at  ease  and  was  far  from  acting  like  a  priest. 
He  acted  more  like  a  boy.  Boyish  indeed  was  his  per- 
sonal appearance,  though  he  was  of  manly  stature  and 
something  over  twenty-five  years  old.  He  realized 
this  fact  of  his  youthful  appearance,  and  sought  to 
offset  it,  since  he  was  a  preacher,  by  a  careful  gravity 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  59 

of  deportment.  It  is  likely  that  to  this  was  due 
also  a  manner  in  the  pulpit  that,  except  when  he  forgot 
himself,  was  grossly  affected.  It  probably  explains 
why  he  pronounced  Jerusalem  "Gee-rooz-alum." 

It  was  not  a  pleasure  to  him  that  in  the  whole 
neighborhood  of  Good  Hope  church  he  was  known  as 
"Brother  Charles."  This  nickname,  if  such  it  can 
be  called,  was  a  matter  in  which  he  himself  had  overshot 
the  mark.  A  couple  of  years  before  this  he  had  told 
Bertha  to  call  him  that.  She  laughed  at  the  suggestion 
in  such  a  pretty  way  that  he  was  greatly  pleased  and 
she  immediately  took  up  with  it,  much  to  his  satis- 
faction. But  from  the  Garrett  house  it  spread.  All 
the  other  girls  of  the  neighborhood  began  to  say 
"Brother  Charles,"  and  then  the  older  people,  so  that 
now  he  was  commonly  so  addressed  and  mentioned. 

Prof.  Bland  took  it  for  granted  that  he  had  heretofore 
been  mistaken  as  to  Mr.  Warner's  name,  and  now 
addressed  him  as  Mr.  Charles,  but,  discovering  presently 
that  this  appellation  was  based  on  a  familiarity  which 
his  meagre  acquaintance  with  the  preacher  would  not 
justify  him  in  assuming,  he  was  careful  next  time  to 
say  very  distinctly  "Brother  Warner,"  and  so  continued 
to  do  throughout  the  day.  On  this  account  the 
preacher  was  exceedingly  grateful  because  for  some 
reason  he  had  the  notion  that  on  this  day  above  all 
others  he  must  be  upon  his  dignity  and  affect  a  serious- 
ness of  a  degree  scarcely  inferior  to  that  which  he 
thought  becoming  in  the  pulpit. 

It  was  by  mere  accident  that  Bertha  and  Mr.  Warner 


60  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

were  seated  side  by  side  at  the  dinner  table,  while  the 
chairs  of  Prof.  Bland  and  "Shiftless  Henry"  were 
together  on  the  other  side.  For  a  moment  "Shif" 
thought  that  he,  too,  was  going  to  be  at  Bertha's  elbow, 
but  this  would  require  that  Walter  and  his  wife  be 
seated  apart.  There  was  some  pleasant  discussion  on 
this  point,  settled  by  Prof.  Bland  who  declared  that 
"'two  bosoms  interchained  with  an  oath"'  should  not 
be  separated.  So,  mentally  grumbling  at  chains  and 
oaths,  "  Shif "  lost  the  coveted  place. 

As  Old  Maggie  brought  in  a  fine  potato  soup  seasoned 
with  thyme,  which  was  always  kept  growing  in  the 
garden  and  which  was  a  favorite  relish  with  Abner 
Garrett,  the  professor  asked : 

"Bertha,  do  you  'know  a  bank  on  which  the  wild 
thyme  blows,  where  ox-lips  and  the  nodding  violet 
grows'?"  And  as  he  said  this  he  peered  at  the  girl 
from  beneath  his  shaggy  eyebrows  and  smiled — his 
old,  old  smile. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  girl  gaily,  "  We  have  that  very 
bank  in  our  garden,  but  the  thyme  has  been  there  so 
long  that  it  must  be  tame." 

"  And  does  there  sleep  Titania  at  some  time  of  night, 
lulled  in  these  flowers  by  music  and  delight?  We  must 
hope  she  never  will  awake  to  love  an  ass." 

Now,  for  some  reason  this  remark  made  the  preacher 
feel  uncomfortable,  but  he  managed  to  laugh  with  all 
the  others,  not  noticing,  as  he  might,  that  "  Shiftless  " 
was  more  keenly  amused  than  all  the  rest,  just  as  if 
there  were  in  it  somewhere  a  plain  and  pointed  joke. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  61 

"A  great  thing  to  know  the  poetth  thometimeth," 
said  Henry. 

"But,"  resumed  the  professor,  "little  Puck  has  told 
me  that  she  shall  not." 

"Now,  Professor,  not  another  word,"  said  Bertha 
playfully,  and  raising  a  finger  at  the  old  man. 

"  Oh,  go  on,  Professor,"  besought  Ida. 

"I  see  you  have  not  yet  lost  your  interest  in  such 
matters,"  said  Garrett  to  his  daughter-in-law. 

"Yes,"  said  the  elder  Mrs.  Garrett,  "we  want  to 
know  all  about  her  doin's.  No  tellin'  what  these 
chil'en  do  when  they  go  off  to  school."  And  with  a 
sly  wink  she  nudged  Walter. 

"Not  going  to  be  surprised  next  time,  Mother?" 
said  Walter. 

"No,  we'll  keep  a  better  look-out  again." 

"Yes,  we  must  know  all  about  Bertha;  she's  ours, 
you  know,"  remarked  "  Brother  Charles  "  with  what  he 
meant  to  be  a  very  grave  smile,  at  the  same  time  turning 
his  face  toward  the  girl,  who  had  been  trying  to  laugh 
away  a  blush  which,  if  she  had  known  how  sweetly  it 
became  her,  she  might  have  wished  to  keep. 

"  But  would  I  not  be  bold  to  proceed  under  such  an 
injunction?  "  answered  the  professor.  "  Besides,  I  have 
no  secrets  to  tell  on  Bertha,  and  girls  so  love,  I  am  told, 
to  tell  their  own." 

The  professor  had  really  no  sort  of  proper  justification 
for  his  hint,  though  no  doubt  he  himself  thought  he 
had.  He  imagined  that  he  had  detected  in  young  Jim 
Pressley,  one  of  his  pupils  at  the  college,  a  genuine 


62  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

fondness  for  Bertha,  which  was  not  unreciprocated. 
He  had  seen  them  studying  together  and  walking 
together,  as  boys  and  girls  will  at  school.  He  knew 
that  they  had  gone  to  a  picnic  together  and  to  a  berry- 
picking,  and  finally  one  evening — he  might  have  called 
it  late  though  it  really  was  not — while  going  back  to 
his  lonely  room  after  a  visit  with  a  friend,  he  encoun- 
tered the  two  at  a  certain  gate  on  the  college  grounds 
through  which  he  must  pass.  That  quite  settled  it  in 
his  mind.  They  might  have  studied  and  walked  to- 
gether and  "kept  company"  still  longer  possibly 
without  their  actions  leading  him  to  a  conviction  as 
to  the  nature  of  their  friendship,  though  he  would  not 
have  failed  to  notice  these  things;  but  the  gate  episode 
was  decisive.  The  old  man  had  read  much  about 
lovers  and  gates,  and  had  come  to  think  of  a  gate  as  the 
only  proper  swinging  or  revolving  altar  over  which 
mutual  troth  should  be  plighted.  Certainly  this  was 
the  only  purpose  for  which  a  young  couple  would  in 
the  eventide  linger  at  a  gate. 

Poor  old  Professor  Bland!  He  had  a  sensitive  soul 
that  loved  the  clouds  and  the  light,  flowers  and  music, 
poetry,  romance  and  beauty;  to  whom,  indeed,  earth 
did  seem  "crammed  with  heaven  and  every  common 
bush  afire  with  God."  Hopelessly  lamenting,  like  a 
Byron,  his  bodily  imperfections;  hurt,  yet  forgiving, 
by  any  look  that  seemed  to  take  note  of  his  deformity, 
he  had  more  than  once,  in  confidential  moments,  deeply 
touched  his  listeners  by  expressing  a  longing  for  the 
time  to  hasten  and  come  when  he  might  lay  aside  his 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  63 

poor,  lame  body  of  flesh,  and  be  clothed  with  a  perfect 
and  celestial  body.  Once  a  tear  was  seen  in  his  eye  as 
he  lingered  over  a  picture  of  Apollo  which  he  had 
shown  to  his  class. 

But  his  temper  continued  sweet.  Woman  ever 
remained  to  him  the  blessed  mystery  that  she  is  to 
youth.  He  was  always  a  little  shy  in  her  presence. 
Himself  excluded  from  the  lists  of  gallantry,  he  yet 
did  not  lose  his  interest  in  the  tender  affairs  of  young 
people.  Without  hope  of  a  personal  participation  in 
the  joys  of  love,  he  became  the  lover  of  all  lovers,  and 
every  successful  suitor,  no  matter  how  ordinary  had 
been  the  wooing,  or  how  ready  the  yielding,  was  in  his 
eyes  a  conqueror.  He  threw  the  halo  of  romance  about 
even  every  common  courtship.  Somehow  every  "  yes  " 
was  a  surrender,  every  bride  a  captive,  and  every 
wedding  the  celebration  of  a  victory. 

Both  "Shiftless  Henry"  and  the  preacher  were  much 
disturbed  by  the  innuendoes  of  the  professor.  So  bad 
did  "Brother  Charles"  feel  that  he  immediately  began  to 
talk  about  "the  church."  He  asked  about  the  next 
Coffee  Creek  Baptist  association  and  the  success  that 
Brother  Stillwell  was  having  at  Mud  Lick. 

While  the  conversation  then  became  general  regarding 
Walter's  plans,  Ida's  family,  matters  at  College  Hill 
and  Dan's  boat,  Old  Maggie  kept  coming  and  going 
with  her  tray,  showing  a  partiality,  which  a  spectator 
might  have  observed,  for  Bertha.  Once  she  forgot 
herself  and  served  Bertha  first. 

"To  Ida,"  said  Bertha,  lifting  the  plate. 


64  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"She  must  have  taken  you  for  the  bride,  Bertha," 
said  Mrs.  Garrett;  at  which  there  was  a  little  laugh  on 
the  part  of  all,  a  little  blush  on  the  part  of  the  preacher 
and  a  little  fidgeting  on  the  part  of  "  Shiftless  Henry." 

"Oh,  Maggie,  you  know,  is  very  fond  of  Bertha," 
remarked  Mr.  Garrett  with  much  deliberation. 

The  preacher  announced  quite  abruptly  that  he  was 
not  sure  but  that  he  ought  to  drop  his  work  at  this 
charge. 

"Indeed?"  responded  Mr.  Garrett,  and  looked  at 
the  preacher  inquiringly. 

"Why,  'Brother  Charlie'!"  exclaimed  Bertha  pro- 
testingly  and  very  quickly. 

It  relieved  the  preacher,  but  it  was  a  shock  to  "  Shift- 
less Henry,"  just  as  if  Bertha  had  been  some  pretty 
cloud  in  human  form,  and  lightning  had  proceeded 
from  her.  He  was  disconcerted.  He  was  during  these 
two  or  three  hours  experiencing  emotions  that  wrought 
with  might  through  the  texture  of  his  slow-moving 
mind. 

While  he  was  recovering  his  composure,  "Brother 
Charles  "  went  on  to  say,  not  with  the  greatest  sincerity, 
that  he  had  thought  perhaps  he  was  not  covering  the 
field  as  well  as  another  might. 

Who  ever  knew  a  preacher,  and  especially  a  young 
one,  who  did  not  talk  about  the  "field"? 

"  Oh,  I  think  so,"  said  Abner  Garrett  reassuringly. 

"  Of  course  you  are,"  remarked  Bertha  with  emphasis, 
as  settling  the  matter  for  good  and  all. 

Whereat  the  preacher's  spirits  took  a  lighter  turn, 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  65 

so  that  he  fell  into  pleasantry  respecting  the  prenuptial 
affairs  of  Walter  and  Ida,  concluding  with  a  reference 
to  their  trip  to  New  Orleans  and  the  remark  that  it 
was  evident  they  were  to  embark  not  on  the  sea  but 
the  river  of  matrimony. 

"A  safer  thing  to  do,  perhaps,"  said  Prof.  Bland. 
"Always  near  to  land  and  less  danger  of  shipwreck." 

While  Henry  proceeded  to  tell  how  many  boats  had 
foundered  or  been  burned  on  the  Ohio  the  professor 
took  from  his  coat  a  bit  of  newspaper  in  which  he 
carefully  wrapped  a  piece  of  apple  pie.  A  moment 
later,  when  the  company  arose  from  the  table,  he  slipped 
the  mushy  package  into  his  coat-tail  pocket,  access  to 
which  had  now  become  convenient.  He  was  plainly 
much  mortified  an  instant  afterward  on  discovering  his 
absent-mindedness,  for  it  was  his  habit  to  thus  carry 
pie  from  his  boarding  place  to  his  school-room  for  lunch. 
It  was  with  a  face  as  red  with  shame  as  that  of  a  school 
girl  that  he  replaced  the  package  on  the  table,  saying : 
"  How  forgetful.  This  is  no  school  day  and  I  need  no 
lunch,"  and,  then  adroitly,  and  with  a  bow  to  Mrs. 
Garrett:  "but  the  pie  is  so  good  that  anyone  might 
have  wished  to  carry  away  a  piece." 

Walter  proposed  to  take  Ida  for  a  walk  of  an  hour 
about  the  plantation,  and  Bertha  invited  the  professor 
down  into  the  wood  in  front  of  the  house  to  see  her 
little  Niagara,  as  she  called  it,  in  the  dell.  "Brother 
Charles"  and  "Shiftless  Henry"  accompanied  them. 
They  were  some  little  distance  down  the  declivity 
when  the  professor  stopped  and  leaned  hard  back  upon 


66  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

his  crutch  while  he  turned  his  beaming  face  upward 
and  around.     Already  his  mind  was  full  of  the  Forest 
Hymn.     He  quoted  with  much  feeling  and  expression: 
Here  is  continual  worship — nature  here 
In  the  tranquility  that  thou  dost  love 
Enjoys  thy  presence. 

*         *         * 

My  heart  is  awed  within  me  when  I  think 
Of  the  great  miracle  that  still  goes  on 
In  silence  round  me. 

At  which  the  boy  preacher  looked  exceedingly 
grave,  and  said:  "Yes,  indeed." 

Henry  was  much  impressed  with  the  solemn  air  of 
the  professor  who,  he  imagined,  was  doing  some  act  of 
consecration.  It  caused  him  to  call  to  mind  a  camp- 
meeting  he  had  once  attended. 

"I  can  beat  you  there,  'Shif,'"  cried  Bertha  viva- 
ciously, pointing  to  the  little  waterfall  now  plainly 
in  sight,  and  starting  onward  at  a  lively  pace. 

Though  confused  at  the  suddenness  of  the  challenge 
and  the  quick  call  of  his  thought  from  camp-meeting  to 
contest,  Henry  accepted  with  what  was  certainly  a 
very  reasonable  promptness  for  him,  and  for  the  first 
time  in  at  least  a  dozen  years  found  himself  running, 
and  that  too,  down  hill  over  flat  rocks  and  loose  earth. 
But  Bertha  won  easily.  Henry  was  quite  out  of  breath 
when  he  reached  the  fall,  and  said  in  an  amusingly 
pleading  way : 

"  Now,  Bertha,  I  think  you  might — tell  me  who  thith 
— little  Puck  ith  up  there — that  Profethor  Bland 
talkth  about." 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  67 

Bertha  drew  a  long  breath  of  surprise,  and  laughed 
at  him  with  a  truly  beautiful  and  feminine  hilarity. 

"Oh,  he  is  a  mischievous  little  fellow,"  she  at  length 
replied. 

"He  don't  know  anything  about  your  affairth, 
doth  he?" 

"He  may  know  more  than  I  do  myself." 

"I  thought  so,"  said  Henry,  trying  to  feel  that  the 
stranger  really  knew  nothing;  but  he  was  not  entirely 
satisfied,  and  when  he  had  a  private  opportunity  he 
asked  Prof.  Bland  about  this  Mr.  Puck. 

The  professor,  though  much  amused,  answered  as 
an  instructor  might  to  a  schoolboy. 

"Why,  have  you  not  heard  of  the  meddlesome  little 
fellow  who  can  go  round  the  earth  in  forty  minutes?  " 

"Oh,  yeth,"  replied  Henry,  realizing  at  last  that 
there  must  be  some  play  in  the  matter  and  Puck  a  part 
of  the  poetry  the  professor  had  used  when  the  dinner 
began. 

"What  book  can  I  get  to  read  about  him?"  the  new 
pupil  inquired,  and  a  few  days  later  "  Shiftless  Henry  " 
might  have  been  seen  ransacking  the  township  library 
copy  of  Shakespeare  for  mention  of  Puck. 


"  Shiftless  "  had  been  hoping,  as  the  time  for  going  to 
the  river  approached,  that  he  might  ride  alone  with 
Bertha  in  the  one-seated  top-buggy,  but  he  was  doomed 
to  bitter  disappointment — the  bitterest,  because  this 
great  pleasure  fell,  it  just  so  happened,  to  the  lot  of 


68  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"Brother  Charles"  whom  only  today  Henry  had  come 
to  look  on  as  a  rival. 

Dan's  entry  upon  the  career  of  a  river  man  had 
aroused  great  interest,  and  the  fame  of  his  boat  was 
spread  far  and  wide  in  the  region  of  his  home.  Some 
had  "heared"  that  it  was  the  largest  boat  on  the  river; 
others  that  it  had  both  an  up  and  a  down  speed  that 
were  not  matched,  and  all  sorts  of  qualities  not  usually 
belonging  to  boats  were  ascribed  to  it.  Such  a  thing 
as  its  arrival  at  The  Landing,  owned  as  it  was  by  a 
home  man  whom  they  all  knew,  was  a  notable  event, 
and  so,  not  only  the  Garretts,  but  several  score  of  their 
neighbors  were  at  the  riverside  to  cheer  the  handsome 
steamer  as  she  bore  in  toward  the  little  wharf,  resplen- 
dent in  her  yet  untarnished  paint  and  bedecked  with 
flags  from  bow  to  stern. 

Underneath  the  window  of  the  pilot  house  was  the 
name,  ABNER  GARRETT,  the  first  announcement  to 
Dan's  family  of  the  christening  of  the  boat,  for  he  had 
kept  this  as  a  surprise  for  his  father.  Dan  stood  on 
the  lower  deck  as  proud  as  a  Columbus  returning  home 
after  the  discovery  of  a  continent,  and  no  majesty's 
servant  ever  received  at  court  a  more  flattering  and 
grateful  reception  than  he  from  the  company  on  the 
wharf.  In  the  minds  of  the  simple  country  people 
he  had  become  a  water  king. 

The  whole  company  was  invited  aboard  to  inspect 
the  boat.  When  the  last  person  was  on,  the  gang 
plank  was  drawn  in,  and  the  boat  pushed  out  into  the 
stream.  There  was  much  fright  and  some  screaming 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  69 

before  the  playful  Dan  allowed  it  to  be  plainly  under- 
stood that  he  was  no  pirate,  but  simply  wanted  his 
friends  to  have  a  ride  with  him. 

"Four  or  five  miles  up  and  back,"  said  he  to  his 
captain,  and  while  the  voyage  was  in  progress  the  de- 
lighted excursionists  promenaded  the  decks,  peered 
into  the  state  rooms  and  the  boiler  rooms,  and  watched 
the  big  wheel  turn.  Dan,  of  course,  took  special  charge 
of  the  family  party.  He  was  in  rollicking  mood.  He 
showed  them  the  specialties  he  had  put  in  the  room 
which  Walter  and  Ida  were  to  occupy,  saying  that  he 
would  have  a  bridal  chamber  for  one  trip  at  least  and 
promising  to  reserve  it  for  awhile  "  if  any  of  you  other 
people  want  to  get  married." 

"Shif "  allowed  that  this  "wath  enough  to  make  a 
man  hurry  up." 

"I  tell  you,  Dan,"  said  Bertha,  "you  know  I'm 
going  to  see  Walter  and  Ida  in  two  or  three  months, 
and  you  keep  this  room  for  me." 

"But  will  you  bring  a  husband  along?"  he  asked 
mischievously,  while  all  laughed — all  but  "Shif"  who 
simply  grinned  broadly  and  waited  intently  for  Bertha's 
reply  to  what  he  thought  was  a  perfectly  rational, 
straightforward  and  matter-of-fact  question. 

"No,  of  course  not,"  Bertha  said,  "but  I'll  promise 
to  dream  about  orange  blossoms  all  the  way  down  to 
New  Orleans  if  you'll  let  me  have  the  room." 

As  the  boat  was  nearing  The  Landing  Abner  Garrett 
called  Dan  aside  and  said  quietly :  "  You  better  change 
the  name  of  the  boat." 


70  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Dan  felt  hurt  at  the  suggestion  because  it  seemed 
to  indicate  that  his  father  did  not  appreciate  the  com- 
pliment, which  he  had  hoped  would  please  him. 

"Why,  father?"  he  asked. 

"  You  might,  you  know,  have  better  luck  under  some 
other  name,"  answered  Mr.  Garrett  with  such  an  air 
that  Dan  could  not  tell  whether  he  were  serious  or 
in  fun. 

He  guessed  the  latter  and  replied  only: 

"No,  that  name  stays  on.  It'll  bring  luck.  I'll 
take  my  chances  under  it." 

And  when  the  temporary  passengers  had  disem- 
barked, the  boat  steamed  on  down  the  river,  Walter 
and  Ida  waving  their  handkerchiefs  until  they  disap- 
peared around  a  bend  in  the  stream. 

As  "Brother  Charles"  and  Bertha  were  nearing  the 
house  on  the  return,  he  said  to  her: 

"I  wish  you  might  have  an  orange  blossom  dream 
right  away,  in  which  I  stood  by  your  side,  and  that 
when  the  time  came  I  might  accompany  you  to  New 
Orleans." 

"  Do  you  want  me,  then,  to  have  a  troubled  dream?  " 
asked  Bertha  with  softened  protest. 

"Would  that  be  a  troubled  dream?" 

"I'm  afraid  it  would.  Indeed,  I  know  it  would," 
said  the  girl  with  more  seriousness. 

"  You  are  so  young  yet  that  your  affections  couldn't 
have  been  centered  on  anyone  by  this  time?"  ventured 
the  preacher  half  affirmatively  and  half  inquisitively. 

"Too  young,  of  course,  to  have  thought  about  such 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  71 

things  at  all — or  to  begin  to  think  about  them  now," 
replied  Bertha  in  a  tone  implying  that  the  present 
conversation  was  the  most  unreasonable  thing  in  the 
world. 

"Not  to  make  a  beginning — just  a  very  beginning. 
Perhaps  if  you  thought  about  it  awhile,  in  your  waking 
hours,  the  dream  would  then  come  to  you  with  the 
vividness  and  power  of  a  vision,  and  be  welcome." 

"Oh,  I'm  afraid  of  visions!"  exclaimed  Bertha  with 
a  feigned  shudder. 

Her  reverend  suitor  sought  to  be  more  impressive. 

"Bertha,  you  were  cut  out  to  be  a  minister's 
wife"— 

"I  never  dreamed  that!"  Bertha  claimed  the  fact 
quickly  and  eagerly  as  being  to  her  advantage. 

"  And  I  think  you  were  cut  out  to  be  my  wife,"  the 
preacher  went  on  gravely.  "  I  did  not  think  you  would 
be  prepared  at  this  time  to  make  a  response  to  what  I 
have  said,  but  I  wanted  you  to  know  that  I  love  you, 
Bertha,  and  I  will  be  the  happiest  man  in  the  world 
when  you  tell  me  that  you  love  me.  You  think  about 
it.  I  would  even  like  to  have  you  pray  over  it.  Try 
to  imagine  what  a  noble  work  a  minister's  wife  can  do. 
Then,  after  a  while,  perhaps  you'll  dream  that  dream 
and  some  time  we'll  go  together  to  New  Orleans." 

"  No,  when  I  come  to  orange  blossoms  none  but  you 
can  be  the  officiating  clergyman.  I  might  put  you  in 
the  dream  that  way." 

"  I  should  want  a  more  vital  interest  in  the  occasion." 

"And    besides,"    Bertha    went    on    triumphantly, 


72  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"your  relation  to  me  has  been  fixed  for  some  time. 
You  would  not  want  to  be  simply  Charlie.  You  must 
always  be  Brother  Charlie." 

"Oh,  no,  that  isn't  good  enough,"  pleaded  the  pastor 
as  he  brought  the  horse  to  a  stop  at  the  front  gate. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
IN  A  CEMETERY  BUT  NOT  SAD. 

"HERE  we  come  once  more  to  our  temple  and  our 
altar,"  said  Jim  Pressley  to  Bertha,  "and  let  us  not 
pass  it  without  stopping  to  offer  our  propitiation,  for 
the  old  gentleman  saw  us  as  we  started  away  and  has 
probably  kept  his  eyes  on  us.  If  he  sees  us  stop  here 
he  will  think  we  have  not  forgotten  to  seek  Sunday 
edification  in  serious  things  and  will  excuse  us.  Let 
us  make  a  respectful  pause  and  gaze  reverently  on 
what  is  before  us." 

"Jim!"  said  Bertha  in  the  manner  of  reproof,  so  that 
there  was  a  whole  condemnatory  sentence  in  just  this 
utterance  of  his  name,  but  the  rebuke  was  attended  by 
such  a  bewitching  portion  of  forgiving  sweetness  that 
he  would  have  been  glad  to  thus  transgress  all  day  for 
the  reward  of  the  like  charming  protestation. 

They  stopped  before  two  tall  tombstones  that  stood 
like  saintly  sentinels  within  a  small,  four-walled 
redoubt  of  rough  stone  masonry.  The  monuments 
could  be  seen  above  the  parapet  a  long  distance  away 
fixed  in  calm  and  steadfast  vigil. 

The  youthful  couple,  leaning  against  the  low  wall, 
looked  down  into  the  now  familiar  court  of  this  mor- 
tuary castle.  The  mounds  and  the  flat  ground  around 
them  were  covered  with  a  thick  matting  of  verdant 

73 


74  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

myrtle,  the  vines  crossing  and  recrossing  each  other  in 
manifold  entanglement,  because  while  full  of  vigor  they 
were  hopelessly  restrained  by  the  stern  barriers  from 
creeping  away  from  the  solemn  place  of  their  con- 
finement. 

A  dozen  sugar  maples  shaded  the  spot,  which  was 
on  the  summit  of  a  hill  separated  by  a  wide  and  deep 
ravine  from  the  hill  on  which  the  college  building,  the 
boarding  house  and  the  president's  house  stood,  and 
in  view  of  them  all.  It  was  by  itself,  detached,  and  in 
the  rear  of  a  graveyard  that  occupied  the  slope  running 
down  to  the  road. 

In  this  enclosure  were  the  graves  of  the  president's 
father  and  mother.  His  attachment  to  his  father, 
with  whom  he  had  collaborated  in  establishing  the 
college,  had  been  unusually  strong,  so  that  this  place 
of  rest  was  the  more  hallowed  in  his  eyes  and  oft  visited 
by  him. 

On  the  father's  tombstone,  beneath  the  name  and 
dates,  was  an  inscription  which  Jim  now,  as  he  had  done 
several  times  before,  read  aloud : 

"My  flesh  shall  slumber  in  the  ground 
Till  the  last  trumpet's  joyful  sound; 
Then  burst  the  chains  with  sweet  surprise, 
And  in  my  Savior's  image  rise. 
Oh,  glorious  hour!     Oh,  blest  abode! 
I  shall  be  near  and  like  my  God. 

"There,  that  concludes  our  ceremony,"  said  Jim. 
"Now  we  may  go  on." 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  75 

"Jim,  really  it  is  too  much  of  a  mockery,"  said 
Bertha  as  if  she  at  least  half  meant  it. 

Bertha  roomed  and  boarded  at  Rev.  President 
Boyce's  house.  He  was  an  austere  man  who  had  very 
strict  notions  of  what  was  proper  conduct  for  people 
of  all  ages,  and  was  exceedingly  severe  when  concerned 
with  anything  like  levity  or  giddiness  in  the  young. 

Especially  did  President  Boyce  feel  called  upon  to 
maintain  a  close  watch  over  any  communications, 
except  of  the  most  indifferent  sort,  between  the  sexes, 
In  no  respect  was  his  nature  so  stern  as  in  these  very 
matters.  There  was  always  a  kind  of  battle  going  on 
between  the  young  people  and  him  on  this  account. 
He  discouraged,  but  they  pressed  forward.  They  dared 
and  he  scowled.  He  was  reputed  by  some  whom  he 
had  offended  to  hold  that  any  protracted  politeness  or 
entertaining  conduct  on  the  part  of  a  boy  toward 
a  girl  was  a  sign  that  he  was  losing  his  head  and  getting 
into  a  perilous  snare. 

He  used  to  deliver  precepts  and  admonitions  touching 
these  things  in  the  school  room  to  faintly  smiling  and 
unappreciative  audiences.  Students  were  there  to 
study,  he  was  wont  to  say,  and  not  to  "gad  about." 
It  was  his  habit  on  evenings  when  the  literary  society 
met  to  take  a  front,  side  seat,  the  better  to  see,  it  was 
believed,  who  came  in  with  whom,  how  the  girls  and 
boys  acted  toward  each  other,  and  to  take  the  exact 
temperature,  so  far  as  possible,  of  any  intimacies  of  a 
special  or  suspected  sort. 

As    may    be    imagined,    therefore,    the   president's 


76  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

house  was  not  a  hospitable  place  for  beaux  and  gallants. 
Jim  probably  fared  better  than  any  other  young  fellow 
would,  for  Mr.  Boyce  liked  him  and  thought  him  more 
mature  than  most  young  men  of  his  age.  He  also  had 
much  respect  for  Bertha's  good  sense,  but  Jim  did  not 
try  to  spend  an  evening  with  Bertha  there  after  the 
first  attempt.  On  that  occasion  they  had  been  alone 
in  the  parlor  not  longer  than  ten  minutes  when  Mr. 
Boyce  entered  in  the  most  matter  of  course  manner, 
and,  by  making  the  company  three,  made  it  none. 

However,  Jim  adopted  admirable  tactics.  He  would 
not  permit  it  to  appear  that  he  was  put  out,  but  sailed 
the  channel  into  which  his  bark  had  been  diverted  with 
a  fictitious  zest  that  could  not  have  been  distinguished 
from  genuine  enthusiasm.  He  found  the  president 
an  exceedingly  interesting  man,  and  himself  in  sur- 
prising concordance  with  his  views  on  a  wide  range  of 
matters.  He  carried  every  theme  a  little  beyond  where 
Mr.  Boyce  seemed  about  to  leave  it,  and  if  through  some 
indiscreet  impetuosity  he  hazarded  at  first  hand  an 
affirmative  proposition,  and  the  president  dissented, 
he  contrived  to  agree  with  his  adversary  quickly. 

Bertha  kept  her  boat  trimmed  with  equal  skill. 

Mr.  Boyce  stood  in  the  door  with  Bertha  when  Jim 
made  his  adieux,  and  turning  about  with  a  yawn,  and 
scratching  his  head,  remarked : 

"A  young  man  of  considerable  promise.  He  seems 
to  have  thought  to  some  purpose  on  a  number  of 
matters." 

Bertha,    as   she   should   have   done,   conveyed   the 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  77 

compliment  to  Jim,  but,  though  pleased  with  the  success 
of  his  maneuvers,  he  did  not  desire  to  risk  a  repetition 
of  just  that  kind  of  interview. 

He  and  Bertha  took  more  to  walking  out,  and,  as 
lovers  for  some  reason  are  prone  to  do,  in  walking  out 
they  took  to  the  tombs.  Maybe  in  this  case  it  was  because 
the  graveyard,  though  not  far  away,  was  a  sequestered 
spot,  a  pretty  place,  and  on  the  way  down  to  the 
winding  and  the  wooded,  the  shallow  and  the  rocky 
creek. 

They  were  there  one  Sunday — the  first  or  second 
time — when  over  the  hill,  which  they  had  left  but  a 
little  while  before,  they  saw  Mr.  Boyce  evidently  headed 
their  way. 

"Bertha,  when  he  gets  down  in  the  hollow,"  said 
Jim,  "let's  go  up  and  be  found  looking  at  his  father's 
grave." 

"And  why?" 

"Why,  then,  maybe,  he'll  think  it's  all  right  for  us 
to  be  out  here  together.  It  will  disarm  him.  It  will 
propitiate  him." 

And  so  they  went,  and  so  he  found  them  looking 
very  seriously,  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  not  by  any  means 
without  seriousness,  at  the  monumental  marble. 

It  did  commend  them  to  him.  There  was  no  reproof 
in  his  face  as  he  came  up.  He  did  not  make  his  eye- 
brows two  clouds.  He  thought  they  had  done  well 
to  halt  there,  and  Jim  many  times  gravely  nodded  his 
head  while  Mr.  Boyce  spoke  in  a  solemn  half-soliloquy 
about  the  good  works  and  the  manly  traits  of  his  father. 


78  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

After  some  silence  that  followed  Mr.  Boyce  asked: 

"  Are  you  out  for  an  extended  walk?  " 

"We  had  thought  of  taking  a  little  ramble,"  Jim 
replied. 

"  You  will  find  a  number  of  pleasant  places  up  along 
the  creek  yonder,"  said  Mr.  Boyce. 

"Perhaps  we  won't  go  farther  than  down  here," 
said  Jim,  pointing  to  the  graveyard,  "  and  take  a  walk 
up  the  creek  another  time." 

The  president  gave  a  jerk  of  the  head  as  if  to  say 
"Just  as  you  please." 

Presently  the  young  couple  moved  rather  awkwardly 
away  and  went  down  into  the  graveyard  again. 

"Worked  like  a  charm,"  said  Jim.  "We  must  stop 
there  every  time  we  come  over  this  way,  and  perhaps, 
whatever  direction  we  take,  we  better  always  start 
this  way." 

"Jim,  I  believe  you're  wicked,"  said  Bertha  with  a 
grimace  that  showed  she  did  not  believe  it  at  all. 

And  so  that  is  why  it  was  that,  through  Jim's  humor, 
he  and  Bertha  were  at  these  graves  on  the  day  with 
which  this  chapter  opens  and  to  which  we  have  finally 
returned. 

"Let's  not  do  it  any  more,"  said  Bertha  as  they 
descended  into  the  cemetery.  "We've  joked  it  out 
now,  don't  you  think  so?" 

"You  haven't  joked  much  about  it  at  any  time. 
You've  let  me  do  it  all.  Now  you  do  some  yourself." 

"I've  kept  you  close  company  in  it.  I  really  do 
think  it  was  a  good  thing  for  us  to  be  found  there  that 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  79 

day  Mr.  Boyce  came  over.  I  believe  it  was  just  that 
that  reconciled  him  for  good  and  all  to  my  'gadding 
about/  because  he's  never  said  a  word  to  me  about  it." 

"Of  course.  Just  think,  Bertha,  what  we  owe  to 
those  old  people  up  there  who  never  saw  us.  Why  " — 

"  Owe  to  them?      A  debt  we  can  never  pay." 

"Because  they're  dead,  I  suppose.  Why,  they've 
saved  us" — 

"Yes,  they  died  for  us." 

"Gall  me  wicked?  What  are  you?  They've  saved 
us  from  we  don't  know  how  much  annoyance,  and  we 
can  never  thank  them" — 

"Not  'till  the  last  trumpet's  joyful  sound,'  and  we 
ought  to  be  up  very  early  that  morning  and  hasten 
to  make  our  acknowledgments  to  them." 

"  Never  thank  them  as  their  great  services" — 

"Why,  to  be  sure,  the  elder  Boyce  was  a  preacher, 
too,  wasn't  he,  and  used  to  hold  services." 

"Their  great  services  require.     What  a  picture" — 

"Yes,  I  intend  to  get  a  photograph  of  it." 

"Do  it,  Bertha,  do  it,  and  get  a  big  one.  We'll 
frame  it  and  hang  it  up  as  a  companion  piece  to  our 
marriage  certificate.  A  pair  of  turtle  doves  on  one 
side  and  a  pair  of  tombstones,  with  a  stone  wall  around 
them,  on  the  other." 

"It  would  really  be  very  appropriate.  We  will  be 
about  as  white  and  as  solemn  as  tombstones  when  we 
stand  up  to  be  married,  and  the  stone  wall  will  signify 
that  we  can  never  be  on  this  side  of  that  event  again." 

"Now,  Bertha,  since  it's  going  to  be  such  a  solemn 


80  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

thing  as  all  that,  don't  you  think  you  better  take  the 
preacher?  " 

"Oh,  that  would  make  it  unendurably  solemn. 
That  would  be  like  marrying  a  tombstone,  and  I  would 
feel  that  I  lived  in  a  church  and  heard  about  Je-rooz- 
alem  every  day." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  it's  really  going  to  be  like,"  said 
Jim  with  a  face  as  full  of  fondness  as  ever  that  of  a 
youth  was — "  with  you  and  me  I  mean — it's  going  to  be 
something  beyond  sermons  and  hymns  and  baptisms 
and  churches,  preachers,  funerals  and  tombstones,  and 
even  the  far-away  heaven  in  the  sky  somewhere,  for 
it's  going  to  be  a  heaven  on  earth — not  a  high  up, 
distant,  hazy,  angel,  harp  and  pearly-gate  heaven,  but 
one  you  can  enter  by  turning  a  plain  door  knob;  made 
out  of  boards  and  plaster  and  pretty  wall  paper, 
carpets,  rocking  chairs,  pictures,  books,  trees,  grass 
and  flowers  and  all  the  common  materials  we  know. 
The  best  heaven  the  mind  of  man  has  ever  conceived 
was  located  right  here  in  this  world.  The  old  Garden 
of  Eden,  growing  out  of  the  familiar,  ordinary  dirt 
that  children  make  mud  pies  out  of,  beat  the  heaven 
in  the  sky  all  to  pieces.  Man  thought  he  was  making 
his  heaven  the  better  the  farther  he  got  it  away  from 
him,  but  he  made  it  worse.  Old  Peter  had  a  dream  for 
all  the  race  when  he  saw  the  New  Jerusalem  descending 
down  out  of  the  sky  to  the  solid  earth.  He  seems  to 
have  had  some  idea  that  this  was  where  it  belonged. 
He  was  right.  The  heavens  on  earth  are  the  thing,  and 
angels  without  wings  are  the  best  kind,  because  they're 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  81 

more  likely  to  stay  where  they  can  do  some  good.  It's 
too  easy  for  the  other  kind  to  fly  away  from  you." 

"Why,  Jim  Pressley,  I  believe  that  I'm  going  to 
marry  a  preacher,  after  all,  and  a  good  one,"  cried  the 
girl,  "  but  you  must  remember  that  a  heaven  on  earth 
is  out  of  the  question  for  a  great  many  people.  Just 
think  of  those  so  situated  that  they  cannot  possibly  be 
very  happy.  Think  of  Prof.  Bland." 

"  Yes,  that's  true,"  returned  the  young  man  thought- 
fully, "Prof.  Bland  deserves  to  have  a  heaven  all  to 
himself  if  he  wants  it  that  way,  and  I  suppose  there  are 
a  great  many  just  like  him.  Heavens  are  not  thick 
enough,  I  know.  Probably  there  would  not  be  too 
many  if  there  were  one  on  every  star,  but  if  there  were 
more  in  this  world,  how  much  more  contented  people 
would  be,  and  if  they  only  really  tried  to  make  them 
they  could  reach  them  without  having  to  die  to  get 
to  them." 

They  were  now  down  in  the  part  of  the  cemetery 
near  the  road,  where,  in  the  almost  constant  shade  of 
a  number  of  sturdy  beeches,  the  gravestones  had  taken 
on  a  dull,  dark  green  not  unlike  the  bark  on  the  neigh- 
boring trunks.  Jim  continued  to  be  enraptured  with 
his  vision  of  an  earthly  paradise,  and  spoke,  as  his 
exalted  spirit  gave  him  utterance,  to  never  so  sympa- 
thetic an  auditor. 

"Oh,  when  we  get  that  lamp  with  the  porcelain 
shade,"  said  Jim,  as  a  kind  of  peroration  and  certainly 
as  a  reiteration,  "  and  that  big,  round  table  with  a  green 
cloth,  and  are  seated  beside  them,  there  will  be  no  two 


82  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

persons  in  the  world  so  happy  as  you  and  I,  will  there, 
Bertha?"  and  he  risked  or  defied  or  forgot  altogether 
to  think  about  the  view  of  any  human  eye,  and  leaned 
over  and  kissed  her. 

"You  mustn't  leave  out  the  lamp  and  the  shade," 
said  Bertha,  "for  it  will  be  a  very  important  part  of 
your  heaven.  You  can  make  a  whole  little  universe 
with  that.  You  see,  the  concave  side  of  the  shade 
will  be  the  sky  of  the  hearth  and  household. 
The  flame  of  the  lamp  will  be  the  sun,  and 
think  of  all  the  dear  little  industries  that  will 
flourish  in  its  soft  light.  Think  what  a  pretty  little 
world  the  big,  dark  world  will  then  shut  in.  When 
the  large  sun  sets  then  the  little  sun  will  rise.  You 
shall  start  the  tiny  horses  of  a  tiny  Aurora  with  the 
crack  of  a  match.  We  will  forget  the  wider  sky  that 
covers  the  whole  world  and  get  under  one  the  size  only 
of  our  lampshade,  that  covers  just  you  and  me.  That 
will  be  a  world,  I  hope,  we  can  comprehend.  I  hope 
there  will  be  no  unhappy  person  in  that  little  world; 
and  if  we  must  ever  be  unhappy,  Jim,  let's  be  so  while 
the  big  sun  is  shining  and  not  after  the  little  sun  has 
risen  under  the  lampshade." 

TJnhappiness  seemed  a  thing  so  foreign  to  the  world 
which  had  begun  for  Jim  and  to  that  which  he  believed 
he  saw  developing  for  him,  that  he  was  a  little  dis- 
turbed by  the  quiet  seriousness  of  Bertha's  last  words. 

"But  we'll  not  be  unhappy  at  all,"  said  he.  "At 
least  we'll  not  make  each  other  so;  and  I  can  picture  a 
very  pretty  and  sufficient  world  without  even  the  table 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  83 

and  the  lampshade.  I  see  it  now  under  the  brim  of 
your  hat,"  and  with  his  two  hands  he  described  a 
circle  around  her  face. 

"  You'll  get  tired  of  that  some  day." 

He  protested  he  never  would,  never  could. 

There  was  a  noise  in  a  field  of  early  corn  across  the 
rail  fence  thirty  yards  away,  as  if  a  stalk  had  been 
pulled  down  or  a  green  ear  ripped  open. 

"A  groundhog,  I  guess,"  said  Jim,  and  he  threw 
a  stone  in  that  direction. 

"So  you  wouldn't  tell  the  preacher  you  were  en- 
gaged," remarked  Jim,  inviting  a  repetition  of  certain 
passages  in  Bertha's  narration  of  the  events  of  the  day 
when  she  was  last  at  home,  just  as  if  they  had  not  been 
full  and  explicit  enough  as  given  by  her  already  several 
times  over.  "You  might  have  saved  yourself  annoy- 
ance from  him  if  you  had." 

"But  Jim,  he  was  not  entitled  to  know,"  Bertha 
explained  again.  "It  was  enough  for  him  to  be  told 
that  I  didn't  want  him,  and  when  I  had  given  him  to 
understand  that,  it  was  an  impertinence  for  him  to 
ask  me  if  my  affections  were  'centered  on  another/ 
as  he  put  it." 

"Of  course  it  was,"  said  Jim,  yet  wishing  that  she 
had  said  something  to  utterly  crush  "  Brother  Charles  " 
and  leave  him  without  the  faintest  shadow  of  a  hope 
or  expectation. 

"And  he  told  you  he  was  praying  for  it,"  Jim  con- 
tinued, "and  that  he  thought  you  would  make  an 
excellent  minister's  wife;  and  for  you  to  think  how 


84  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

useful  you  could  be  as  a  handmaid  of  the  Lord;  and 
that  you  were  still  young  and  could  take  plenty  of 
time  to  think  it  over;  and  that  you  might  consult  your 
father  and  mother  about  it;  and  that  it  might  not  do 
any  harm  to  find  out  what  Old  Maggie  thought  about 
it;  and  he  could  wait;  and  that  he  hoped  you  would 
in  time  see  your  way  clear  to  become  his  wife." 

These  were  not  questions.  They  were  rather  a 
recapitulation.  They  needed  no  answer  or  correction 
or  confirmation,  and  Bertha  gave  none,  but  kept  silent 
all  the  while,  smiling  and  looking  love  to  the  man  who 
loved  her. 

"  He  must  have  thought  that  everybody  around  the 
place  would  urge  you  to  accept  him  quick,"  Jim  went 
on.  "  Oh,  he'll  be  buzzing  about  you  for  a  long  time," 
and  he  gave  Bertha  a  look  as  if  to  say  that  she  had  not 
fully  calculated  that  part  of  it. 

"  Well,  I  must  not  be  rude  with  him,  you  know," 
she  said,  "for  he's  always  been  friendly  and  is  a  nice 
fellow."  And  she  added  with  a  prettily  shrewd  look: 
"  I  don't  believe  he'll  bother  me  very  much." 

Jim  said  he  hoped  not. 

"But  there  is  one  thing  I  did  not  tell  you,"  said 
Bertha. 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Jim  eagerly. 

"  He  no  doubt  thought  he  was  very  cunning  when  he 
said  that  it  might  do  no  harm  to  find  out  what  Old  Mag- 
gie thought  about  it.  He  knows  that  she  has  seen  me 
grow  up  from  a  baby  and  cared  for  me  a  great  deal 
when  I  was  a  child.  This  has  given  him  the  notion, 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  85 

I  think,  that  she  has  a  strong  influence  over  me. 
Indeed  I'm  sure  he  has  an  exaggerated  estimate  of  her 
importance  in  our  family.  Just  as  soon  as  he  mentioned 
her  that  day  I  could  remember  that  he  had  been  paying 
more  than  usual  attention  to  her  in  the  last  few  months. 
One  Sunday  afternoon  about  a  month  ago — I  guess  all 
the  rest  of  us  had  been  taking  a  nap  or  something — 
I  looked  out  of  my  window,  and  there  he  and  Old 
Maggie  were  walking  around  in  the  garden,  and  in  a 
little  while  they  came  sauntering  along  toward  the 
house.  She  was  carrying  a  little  bouquet  that  he  had 
picked  for  her,  and  seemed  as  honored  and  delighted  as 
anyone  could  be.  They  did  look  comical.  It  seemed 
as  if  he  might  be  trying  to  make  love  to  her." 

"That's  your  chance,  Bertha,"  said  Jim,  laughing. 
"Tell  him  to  marry  Old  Maggie." 

"  I  wonder,  too,"  said  Bertha,  as  if  a  surprising  idea 
had  just  come  to  her,  "if  from  anything  papa  has  been 
saying  to  him  he  has  learned  that  papa  and  mamma 
talk  over  everything  about  me  with  Old  Maggie;  for 
they  do,  Jim,  I  know  they  do,  because  she  often  asks 
me  questions  and  makes  remarks  about  affairs  of  mine 
that  could  come  to  her  knowledge  only  from  what  papa 
and  mamma  had  told  her.  Of  course  it's  all  right,  for 
she's  interested  in  me  and  likes  me,  just  as  she  does 
everyone  in  the  family,  but  sometimes  I  think  she's  a 
little  too  inquisitive  and  meddlesome.  Now,  I  wonder 
if  'Brother  Charlie'  knows  anything  about  that." 

"  I  wouldn't  call  him  '  Brother  Charlie '  all  the  time," 
said  Jim. 


86  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"Oh,  that's  just  a  little  notion  of  his,  and  we've 
humored  him  and  got  in  the  habit  of  it,"  replied  Bertha, 
noticing  plainly  enough  that  Jim's  protest  was  based 
on  a  trifling  jealousy  which  really  did  not  merit  the 
little  conciliation  she  offered  it. 

"  If  he  doesn't  want  to  be  called  Mr.  Warner,  call  him 
'Brother  Chump' ;  that  will  be  all  right,"  said  Jim  with 
a  vindictive  little  emphasis. 

"I'll  call  him  Mr.  Warner,  that's  what  I'll  do.  I'm 
glad  you  spoke  about  it.  For  that  will  be  a  little  cold 
now,  you  know,  and  that  is  what  he  needs." 

"Just  the  thing  to  do,"  Jim  quickly  agreed,  exulting 
that  a  blessed  formality  was  at  length  to  push  the 
presuming  preacher  out  of  his  comfortable  relation  as 
a  familiar  of  Bertha's  and  especially  out  of  the  glorious 
position  of  seeming  to  be  anything  in  the  world  like 
a  pet  of  hers. 

And  now  the  well-pleased  and  triumphant  Jim  was 
prepared  to  talk  again  about  marrying  the  preacher 
to  Old  Maggie. 

"  He  went  at  you  in  regular  military  fashion,"  said  he. 
"If  he  thought  she  was  one  of  the  outworks,  and  he 
seems  to  have  thought  she  was,  it  was  good  tactics  for 
him  to  try  to  get  possession  of  her." 

They  were  seated  beneath  a  beech  which  had  been 
scarred  and  seamed  all  over,  from  within  two  feet  of 
the  ground  to  up  among  the  branches,  with  initials  cut 
in  the  bark. 

"'The  groves  were  God's  first  temples,'"  said  Jim. 
"  Having  your  name  on  a  tree  is  next  to  having  it  on  a 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  87 

church  register.  Let's  join  the  Druids  and  put  our 
initials  up  there.  That  will  be  another  rite  for  a  Sunday 
afternoon." 

Bertha  assented,  so,  grasping  a  low  limb,  Jim  swung 
himself  up  into  the  tree  and  cut  their  initials  higher 
up  on  the  trunk  than  any  others.  When  he  descended 
Bertha  asked : 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you  were  going  to  buy  a 
new  suit?" 

"Buy  a  new  suit?    What  makes  you  ask  that?" 

"  Why,  here's  a  measuring  worm  on  you,  and  that's 
a  sign  you  are  to  have  a  new  suit  of  clothes.  Now  I 
must  catch  a  butterfly — a  pretty  one — and  bite  its 
head  off,  and  I'll  have  a  new  dress  of  its  color.  There 
comes  one,"  and  she  began  a  chase  for  it. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

AN  INTRUDER. 

THE  two  in  the  exuberance  of  their  joy  and  youth 
were  darting  about  hither  and  thither  and  running  in 
all  directions  at  once  after  the  winged  flower  when 
they  were  startled  by  the  sounds  of  footsteps  in 
the  gravel  at  the  gate,  and,  looking  in  that  direction, 
saw  Gassier,  the  shoemaker,  coming  in.  He  was  very 
red  in  the  face,  was  grinning,  and  altogether  looked 
sheepish.  Possibly  that  is  why  Jim  at  once  felt  the 
suspicion  that  he  might  have  been  the  groundhog  in 
the  corn,  a  suspicion,  however,  that  a  large  bunch  of 
ferns  and  wild  flowers,  which  he  had  in  his  hand, 
would  tend  to  alleviate. 

"  Little  too  lively  fo'  ye,  eh?"  he  said  as  he  jerkingly 
nodded  his  head  to  our  young  friends.  "Takes  wings 
to  ketch  wings.  Oh,  them's  spry  little  critters.  But 
my,  a  butterfly'd  ought  to  let  such  a  person  as  you 
ketch  it,"  grinning  at  Bertha  harder  than  ever. 
"They'd  ought  to  come  and  light  on  you  and  be 
glad  of  the  chance." 

Jim  was  surprised  at  the  audacity  and  suddenness 
with  which  Gassier  had  trespassed  on  what  he  con- 
sidered his  own  exclusive  ground,  and  was  quite 
confused. 

Bertha,  burning  with  blushes  and  almost  overcome 
88 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  89 

with  embarrassment — for  Gassier  continued  to  grin 
and  gaze  upon  her — managed  to  say: 

"Butterflies  are  very  foolish  things,  whatever  they 
do." 

"Just  like  some  people,  eh?"  and  Gassier  laughed, 
or  pretended  to,  while  Jim  and  Bertha,  feeling  like 
doing  something  else,  went  through  the  mechanical 
part  of  smiling. 

"  When  I  see  you  in  here  from  out  there  in  the  road," 
said  Gassier,  "I  couldn't  think  of  any  better  girl  in 
the  whole  world  to  give  these  posies  to,  and  so  I've 
come  in  to  give  'em  to  you."  And  he  proffered  the 
wild  flowers  to  Bertha. 

Jim  would  have  gloried  in  seeing  her  curtly  refuse 
them,  but  she  took  them  with  a  very  indifferent 
"Thank  you." 

Gassier  then  proceeded  to  tell  where  he  had  been 
in  his  afternoon  ramble;  where  he  had  found  this  one 
of  the  wild  flowers  and  where  that  one;  where  he  had 
plucked  up  the  ferns;  where  Bertha  might  find  them 
if  she  went  for  them;  and  how  few  the  wild  flowers 
were  in  these  parts  compared  with  places  in  Kentucky; 
and,  ingeniously  marshalling  a  most  remarkable  host 
of  petty  and  inconsequential  minutiae — so  it  seemed 
to  Bertha  and  Jim — he  told  a  story  insufferably  longer 
than  any  to  which  these  two  people,  together  or  apart, 
had  ever  in  all  their  lives  given  compulsory  attention. 

And  a  somewhat  singular  circumstance  was  that  he 
addressed  himself  almost  exclusively  to  Bertha,  glancing 
only  now  and  then  at  Jim,  not  as  recognizing  that  Jim 


90  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

might  be  at  all  concerned  in  what  was  being  said,  but 
rather  as  watching  him. 

Bertha  and  Jim  were  not  careful  to  conceal  their 
impatience.  Nor  can  there  be  any  doubt  that  Gassier 
correctly  interpreted  their  manner,  but,  far  from 
abashing  him,  it  seemed  only  to  make  him  more  eager 
to  press  forward  in  his  discourse  and  to  draw  Bertha 
into  conversation. 

"  I  reckon  you'll  be  glad  when  school's  out,"  he  said 
to  her. 

"Students  usually  are  at  the  end  of  a  school  year, 
I  believe,"  she  answered. 

"You'll  be  back  next  year?"  he  asked  just  as  one 
would  who  was  intensely  interested  in  whether  she 
would  or  not. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  replied. 

"Not  done?     Not  goin'  anywhere  else?" 

"I  can't  say." 

"You  like  it  up  here?" 

"I  think  most  of  the  students  do." 

"  Folks  are  all  well  down  below? " 

"I  hope  so." 

"I  hear  Walter's  married." 

Bertha  chose  to  take  this  as  simply  a  plain  statement 
of  fact,  and  made  no  response. 

"It  doesn't  begin  to  make  you  think  about  your 
own  turn?" 

He  said  this  as  one  might  who  was  trying  to  banter 
her,  and  yet  there  was  also  something  in  his  manner 
that  suggested  a  serious  and  curious  personal  interest. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  91 

Bertha  keenly  felt  that  she  was  the  victim  of  imperti- 
nence, and  the  impatience  of  herself  and  her  lover  was 
far  on  the  way  to  indignation,  which,  however,  they 
were  still  restrained  from  expressing,  on  account  of  a 
certain  kindliness,  distinguished  from  ordinary  friend- 
liness, (for  of  that  he  had  made  a  most  awkward  if 
not  equivocal  exhibition),  which  from  the  first  had 
marked  Gassler's  manner. 

Bertha  hesitated  for  some  moments  in  a  struggle  to 
overcome  an  impulse  to  answer  with  full  rein  to  her 
feeling,  and  replied  : 

"  I'm  not  so  old  as  Walter." 

"Coin'  to  bide  your  time.  That's  right. — I  see 
you're  fond  of  horseback  ridin'  down  home,  but  never  see 
you  at  it  here.  Seems  like  you've  rather  taken  to 
walkin'  here.  Next  year  you  just  let  me  know  when- 
ever you'd  like  to  take  a  horseback  ride,  an'  I'll  see  'at 
you  get  the  horse. — Well,  I  been  a  good  deal  longer 
givin'  you  them  flowers  'n  I  'xpected  to  be.  I'll  have 
to  be  goin'  on."  And  he  walked  away. 

He  had  scarcely  pushed  the  gate  shut  behind  him 
when  the  wrathful  Jim  exclaimed : 

"  What  infernal  impudence ! " 

"There's  another  Sunday  afternoon  exercise  for 
you,"  said  Bertha.  "I've  been  put  through  a  cate- 
chism." And  she  hurled  away  Gassler's  floral  offering 
with  disgusted  vehemence. 

It  happened,  though  neither  Bertha  nor  Jim  noticed 
it,  that  the  rejected  flowers,  expelled  thus  furiously 
from  a  hand  so  soft  and  delicate  that  the  beautiful 


92  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

blossoms  could  have  found  no  fitter  place,  with  their 
stems  cut  and  torn,  to  wither  and  die  in,  yet  fell  gently 
and  scattered,  upon  a  child's  grave. 

"And  to  think  that  I  had  scarcely  ever  spoken  to 
him  before ! "  said  Bertha. 

"Your  woes  are  coming  all  at  once,"  said  Jim. 
"The  preacher  and  'Shiftless  Henry'  and  myself,  and 
now  Gassier.  He  is  your  fate." 

"The  silly  old  vagabond!  What  hi  the  world  did 
he  mean?" 

"He's  smitten  with  you,  Bertha.  How  long  ago 
did  you  say  it  was  that  he  first  came  to  your  neigh- 
borhood?" 

"About  two  years  I  think.  He  has  a  little  shop  near 
the  postoffice  down  there — a  shop  there  and  one  here, 
and  works  part  of  the  time  at  one  and  part  of  the 
time  at  the  other.  He  has  seen  me  frequently  on 
horseback  to  get  the  mail  down  home,  but  never  tried 
to  do  anything  more  than  nod  to  me  or  say  'Good 
evening/  and  he  didn't  get  to  do  that  very  often, 
because  I  took  care  to  avoid  noticing  him  when  I 
could.  He  associates  with  the  lowest  kind  of  people 
and  his  habits  are  bad.  He  doesn't  know  our  folks  at 
all,  and  I  was  as  surprised  as  could  be  when  he  took 
a  notion  of  speaking  to  me." 

"But  up  here,"  said  Jim,  "he  attends  Sunday 
school  and  church  and  comes  to  our  'sings.'" 

"And  he  spends  his  evenings  with  loafers,"  Bertha 
added. 

They  now  retraced  a  large  part  of  the  way  they  had 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  93 

come,  and  went  to  the  college  chapel  where  many  of 
the  students  met  every  Sunday  afternoon  at  half  past 
four  to  sing.  It  was  an  informal  entertainment  of  a 
very  common  concert  character  that  a  number  of  the 
village  people  were  fond  of  attending,  coming,  as  it 
did,  at  a  time  of  the  day  when  naps  were  over  and 
drowsy  minds  were  ready  for  an  inspiring  reawakening. 

Bertha  and  Jim,  since  this  was  the  last  Sunday  on 
which  they  were  to  be  together  for  some  time,  would 
have  been  glad  to  absent  themselves,  but  Bertha  was 
the  organist  and  on  this  account  they  felt  obliged  to 
be  there. 

Gassier  had  chanced  to  look  back  at  the  very  moment 
when  Bertha  threw  away  the  flowers.  He  determined 
to  return  and  pick  them  up. 

"She  has  thrown  them  away,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"but  they  have  been  in  her  hand." 

He  stopped  and  pretended  to  be  observing  the 
view  presented  by  the  opposite  bank  of  the  creek, 
rocky  and  wooded,  until  Bertha  and  Jim  had  gone  up 
the  hill  out  of  the  cemetery  and  descended  into  the 
hollow  in  the  pasture.  He  then  went  back  to  the  spot 
where  he  had  seen  the  flowers  cast  into  the  air.  But 
he  paused  before  the  stone  at  the  grave. 

"Child  buried  here,"  he  observed  thoughtfully.  "A 
child's  grave.  Then  I'll  leave  'em  there." 

And  he,  too,  went  to  the  college  chapel. 

Bertha  and  Jim  were  together  again  that  evening. 

"  I  believe  he  understood  how  we  felt,"  said  Bertha. 
"Did  you  notice  how  sad  he  looked  all  through  the 
'sing'?" 


94  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"Yes,  he  looked  as  if  he  had  lost  his  only  friend  on 
earth,"  replied  Jim.  "He  kept  his  eyes  on  you  most 
of  the  time.  Come  to  think  of  it,  I've  noticed  him  do 
that  a  good  deal  before.  I  overheard  him  say  to  Mr. 
Perry  that  you  were  a  Number  One  player,  and  he 
brightened  up  a  little  when  he  said  it.  And  Perry 
said  to  him:  'I  allow  she's  Number  One  prett'  near 
everything.' " 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
A  NOTABLE  FOURTH  OF  JULY. 

THE  same  cause,  the  same  sweet  expectation,  had 
never  before  shortened  Jim's  sleep  on  the  morning  of 
an  Independence  Day.  He  rose  early  on  the  Fourth  of 
July,  1878.  He  had  in  years  gone  by  been  up  earlier 
to  ring  a  church  bell  or  fire  off  the  old  army  musket 
for  which  his  brother  had  traded  a  fiddle,  but  the  arous- 
ing agency  this  time  was  a  calmer  and  deeper  sentiment 
than  the  common,  youthful,  holiday  enthusiasm. 

Still  he  felt  at  moments  the  loss  of  what  he  had 
experienced  on  previous  advents  of  this  anniversary, 
and  in  one  of  the  intervals,  when  his  thoughts  were  off 
their  lately  constant  theme,  he  became  a  parodist 
and  wrote: 

Some  say  that  ever  'gainst  that  season  comes 
Wherein  our  nation's  birth  is  celebrated, 
The  boy  and  cracker  sleep  near  all  night  long; 
And  then  they  get  them  up  and  'gin  to  stir  abroad; 
Their  fellows  join  them.     Then  few  crackers  fail; 
Most  of  them  burst  and  each  hath  power  to  charm, 
So  boy-st'rous  and  so  popping  is  the  time. 

"That  is  the  way  it  is  out  in  Iowa,"  thought  Jim, 
"but  it  isn't  the  way  here.  Why,  it  comes  nearer  to 
describing  Christmas  here  than  the  Fourth  of  July,  for 
Christmas  is  when  they  have  their  firecrackers  down 

95 


96  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

in  this  country.  But  I  ought  not  to  quarrel  with  this 
Fourth.  I  wonder  what  time  Bertha  and  her  people 
will  get  up  here.  I  mustn't  forget  my  speech.  I'm 
glad  father's  not  coming  out — I  wouldn't  want  him 
today,  not  today." 

Jim  then  went  to  thinking  again  about  the  difference 
between  a  Fourth  of  July  among  the  southern  Hoosiers 
and  the  same  occasion  in  his  own  beloved  little  town 
in  eastern  Iowa.  On  the  evening  before,  notwith- 
standing a  celebration  had  been  arranged  for,  none  of 
the  premonitory  demonstrations  to  which  he  had  been 
accustomed  were  to  be  seen  or  heard.  No  small, 
impatient  boy  was  testing  by  samples  the  virtue  of  his 
bunch  of  firecrackers  or  proving  the  capacity  of  his 
popgun  for  making  noise.  No  band  was  heard  rehears- 
ing. No  flag  was  unfurled  to  herald  the  approach  of 
the  day  on  which  the  Star  Spangled  Banner  always 
waves  most  inspiringly.  No  charming  maiden  could 
be  seen,  as  the  sun  went  down,  seated  under  her  father's 
trees,  arranging  the  ribbons  of  her  pretty  hat  so  as  to 
produce  the  best  holiday  effect. 

This,  to  Jim's  mind,  was  all  wrong.  The  people 
should  be  more  interested,  thought  he.  And  it  was 
strange  that  among  the  children  even  there  was  no  sign 
of  delightful  excitement.  Old  musket  and  anvil  firing, 
bell  ringing,  and  ragamuffin  memories  came  trooping 
up;  and  memories  less  boyish — pleasant  recreations  in 
shaded  groves,  picnic  associations,  the  annual  conspir- 
acy with  friends  to  seize  a  large  booty  of  fun  and 
enjoyment 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  97 

"Still,"  said  Jim  as  he  looked  out  over  the  village 
from  the  window  of  his  room  on  the  hill,  "  the  natives  " 
— he  frequently  called  them  the  natives — "  the  natives 
have  prepared  to  celebrate  this  holiday  with  vast  and 
appropriate  ceremonies,  and  I  have  consented  to  figure 
on  the  occasion  as  the  patron  and  interpreter  of  that 
time-honored  charter,  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 
Not  going  to  dispose  of  it  in  the  usual  way  by  solemnly 
reading  it,  but  make  it  the  text  and  chapter  of  a  dis- 
course. I  am  to  hold  it  up  to  honor  before  the  mul- 
titude, expatiate  with  fervor  upon  its  import,  and, 
after  calling  in  review  Jefferson  and  the  signers  of  the 
instrument  and  giving  them  a  few  handsome  turns, 
remand  them  for  another  year  to  the  quieter  enjoyment 
of  their  blessed  and  glorious  immortality.  That  will 
be  good" — but  Jim  almost  wished — yes,  he  did  really 
wish — that  he  had  not  agreed  to  do  it,  for  he  feared — 
he  was  convinced — that  it  would  not  give  him  as 
much  time  for  something  else  as  he  was  sure  he  would 
desire. 

He  then  ran  over  in  his  mind  the  steps  leading  up  to 
the  celebration.  It  was  an  unusual  undertaking  for 
College  Hill  or  its  vicinity,  and  had  not  been  finally 
determined  on  without  difficulty.  Several  obstacles 
caused  the  advancing  spirit  of  patriotism  to  stumble. 
There  was  want  of  harmony  and  a  great  diversity  of 
sentiment  as  to  the  distribution  of  honors. 

The  design  originated  with  a  debating  club  which, 
until  spring  work  on  the  farms  began,  had  held  regular 
meetings  in  a  big  schoolhouse  a  half  mile  outside  the 


98  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

village.  The  club  had  a  called  meeting  and  resolved 
to  celebrate.  Twelve  committees  were  appointed,  no 
less  a  number  than  this  being  commensurate  with  the 
ambitions  of  the  members  severally  and  collectively, 
for  no  one  in  the  club  could  have  suffered  his  fellows 
to  be  exalted  above  himself.  By  the  happy  contri- 
vance of  many  committees  each  member  was  raised 
to  the  dignity  of  a  committee-man,  a  distinction  which 
he  prized  as  highly  as  in  old  times  an  Englishman, 
just  returned  with  a  fortune  from  the  Indies,  would 
have  rated  a  peerage. 

The  committee  to  choose  a  scene  for  the  grand 
affair  waited  on  a  young  storekeeper  to  ascertain  on 
what  conditions  he  would  allow  the  use  of  a  piece  of 
woods  owned  by  him. 

"Well,  you  can  have  the  grove,"  he  said,  "if  you 
don't  have  any  dancin',  and  if  you're  goin'  to  have 
stands  and  charge  fur  'em  I  want  my  pick  of  a  place 
fur  a  stand,  and  I'll  charge  you  ten  dollars  fur  the  grove; 
but  if  you're  going  to  have  it  free  fur  everybody  you 
can  have  the  grove  fur  nothin',  only  I  don't  want  any 
dancin'. " 

The  storekeeper  was  a  United  Presbyterian,  hence 
the  dancing  stipulation  would  not  have  been  remark- 
able had  it  not  been  that  the  young  man  himself  had 
indulged  occasionally  in  the  joyful  practice  of  spreading 
music  out  on  the  floor  with  the  ends  of  his  toes.  He 
might  have  been  less  pronounced  on  this  point  had  he 
not  been  cautioned  beforehand  to  be  firm  by  his  mother 
and  young  wife  who  were  uncompromisingly  opposed 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE  99 

to  the  amusement,  the  first  on  account  of  her  age  and 
the  latter  on  account  of  her  principles. 

The  committee  intimated  that  the  storekeeper  was 
illiberal,  and  applied  to  a  Methodist  brother  who  owned 
twenty  acres  of  beeches  adjoining  the  site  first  desired. 
Now,  there  was  no  Methodist  church  in  the  vicinity, 
and  the  man  was  known  as  one  without  intimate  "  re- 
ligious connections" — which,  by  the  way,  have  often 
been  found  embarrassing.  To  the  inquiries  of  the 
committee  this  kind  and  sympathetic  man  responded : 

"Well,  I  'low  you  can  have  my  woods  for  nothing, 
and  dance  your  heels  off  if  you  want  to." 

This  was  certainly  all  the  committee  could  desire, 
but  for  some  reason  the  whole  project  for  which  the 
twelve  committees  had  been  named  was  abandoned. 
The  pleasant  expectations  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
village  and  the  country  round  that  there  would  be  some 
fine  "dom's"  were  annihilated. 

At  this  contingency,  fatal  alike  to  an  interesting 
holiday  and  to  growth  in  patriotic  grace,  two  energetic 
and  brave-hearted  men  came  to  the  rescue.  One  was 
a  jingling  disciple  of  Dives  and  the  other  a  pounding 
son  of  Vulcan.  They  put  their  heads  together  and 
decided  to  buy  out  and  forge  out  a  finished  article. 
They  determined  to  make  all  the  arrangements  them- 
selves. They  were  promised  the  use  of  a  beech  grove 
just  outside  the  hamlet,  although,  much  to  the  distress 
of  many,  with  the  unwelcome  understanding  that 
there  was  to  be  no  dancing — for  they  had  struck 
another  Presbyterian. 


100  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

The  hopes  of  the  villagers  revived.  The  wives  began 
to  bake  cakes.  Though  the  efforts  of  the  debating 
club  had  been  unavailing,  the  club  was  not  ignored. 
It  was  honored  and  its  good  will  won  by  the  selection 
of  its  chief  to  be  president  of  the  day  and  master  of 
ceremonies. 

And  now  the  wagons  of  lumber  going  to  the  grounds, 
the  sounds  of  boards  and  of  hammers,  indicate  that 
the  speakers  will  have  a  platform  to  speak  from,  that 
the  people  will  have  seats  to  sit  on,  and,  above  all, 
that  the  huckster  and  the  blacksmith  have  had  eyes 
to  business,  for  the  most  of  the  noise  has  recorded  the 
growth  of  a  spacious  stand  down  yonder  beneath  the 
beeches,  over  the  counters  of  which  will  be  exchanged 
sweetmeats  and  dimes.  The  hammering  and  the  plac- 
ing of  planks  continue  to  the  very  eve  of  the  eventful 
day.  These  are  the  only  signs  of  preparation. 

Jim  was  out  walking  back  and  forth  on  the  broad, 
beaten  path  leading  from  the  boarding  house  to  the 
college,  mumbling  over  his  speech,  when,  an  hour  after 
sunrise,  a  loud  report  came  from  down  the  stony  road. 

There  was  no  mistaking  it  though  it  was  delayed.  It 
was  the  firing  of  the  anvils  and  made  Jim  a  very  boy 
again.  Bareheaded  as  he  was,  he  went  on  the  run  to 
the  blacksmith  shop  and  was  more  excited  than  the 
smith  or  the  half  dozen  hurriedly-dressed  lads  who 
hastily  gathered  about  while  the  next  charge  was  put 
in,  the  anvils  again  doubled  and  the  paper  a  second 
time  lighted. 

"  Well,  now  again,"  cried  Jim  when  the  conveniently 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  101 

improvised  artillery  boomed  once  more  the  suggestion 
of  Bunker  Hill  and  all  the  glorious  battles  of  American 
history.  "  Keep  her  up,"  he  shouted. 

"  No  more  powder,"  said  the  blacksmith. 

Jim  was  disgusted,  but  kept  his  feelings  to  himself. 

"I'll  get  some  more,"  he  said,  and  started  off,  run- 
ning for  the  huckster's  store  just  over  the  creek,  making 
his  way  across  the  shallow  water  rather  than  to  take 
time  to  run  up  stream  to  the  foot-bridge. 

He  came  back  with  such  a  package  of  powder  as 
made  the  boys  open  their  eyes,  and  with  the  greater 
part  of  the  little  stock  of  firecrackers  that  the  huckster 
had  on  hand.  He  threw  a  bunch  of  crackers  to  each 
boy,  saying:  "Open  'em  up  and  set  'em  going,"  and 
then  joined  the  smith  in  producing  the  heavier  detona- 
tions with  the  anvils.  It  was  a  lively  half  hour  on  the 
corner,  and  Jim  felt  himself  to  be  a  missionary  of 
patriotism. 

"More  powder  'n  I've  smelt  fur  fourteen  year," 
said  the  shoemaker,  who  had  been  standing  quietly  by 
smoking  a  pipe.  "Yes,  sir  ;n  since  the  war.  Ol' 
Morgan's  men  smelt  'nough  of  it  then  I  can  tell  ye.  We 
was  through  this  here  country  right  here,  too — few 
miles  south  and  north. 

"Big  day  fur  fellers  and  their  gals,  I  reckon,"  con- 
tinued Gassier.  "Say,  Jim,  I  don't  wonder  you're 
feelin'  peert  's  morning.  Y'll  have  the  finest  gal  in 
the  hull  pack,  eh?" 

Jim  was  not  pleased  with  what  was  said.  He  felt 
that  any  reference  to  Bertha  by  Gassier  was  a  kind  of 


102  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

contamination  of  her,  and  altogether  he  did  not  like 
the  familiarity  the  man  had  assumed.  He  therefore 
asked  soberly : 

"How  do  you  know  with  whom  I'll  be?" 

"Oh,  I've  got  eyes  in  my  head,"  Gassier  replied, 
smiling  and  with  a  nod.  "I  can  see  what's  going  on." 
And  Jim's  feeling  suddenly  changed  so  far  that  he  was 
foolish  enough  to  be  a  little  gratified  at  even  such  a 
recognition  of  his  position. 

What  Jim  wanted  to  find  out  was  how  it  was  that 
the  shoemaker  happened  to  be  acquainted  with  Bertha's 
plans,  but  he  was  not  inclined  to  ask  more  questions 
and  contented  himself  with  supposing  that  Bertha  had 
told  some  of  her  girl  friends  and  Gassier  had  heard  it 
as  gossip  in  his  shop  or  at  the  store,  for  Bertha,  on 
going  home  at  the  close  of  the  term  in  the  very  last 
days  of  June,  had  promised  she  would  come  up  to  the 
celebration. 

"You  may  be  right,"  was  all  Jim  said  as  he  started 
away,  leaving  Gassier  plainly  eager  to  continue  the 
conversation. 

Jim  got  back  to  the  boarding  house  just  as  Prof. 
Bland  came  hobbling  out  on  the  low,  sunken  flagstones 
to  squint  at  the  sun  and  sniff  the  morning  air.  The 
noise  had  first  awakened  and  then  delighted  him. 

"I  see  you  have  been  down  to  listen  close  by  to 
Freedom's  annual  proclamation,"  he  said  to  Jim. 
"  This  is  the  day  when 

"  Cannon  to  cannon  shall  repeat  her  praise, 
Banner  to  banner  flap  it  forth  in  flame. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  103 

"  'Tis  grand  that  on  this  day  all  men  may  hear 
How  terrible  the  voice  of  Liberty  may  be, 
When,  on  the  ears  of  tyrants  bursting  near, 
It  says  in  thunder  that  a  people   shall  be  free." 

"Hardly  an  annual  proclamation  here,  is  it?"  asked 
Jim.  "  I'm  sure  it's  done  more  thundering  in  this 
little  place  this  morning  than  it  ever  did  before,  but 
where  is  the  'Banner  to  banner'  part  of  it?  We  ought 
to  have  a  flag  but  I  have  none.  Let's  see  if  Mrs." — 

"  I  have  a  small  one,"  said  the  professor,  and  with 
such  haste  as  he  could  he  went  back  into  the  house  and 
presently  reappeared  with  a  flag  carefully  wrapped  in 
paper.  It  was  small,  as  he  had  said,  but  of  silk  and 
with  all  the  colors  bright. 

"Pretty  one!"  exclaimed  Jim  as  he  unrolled  it  and 
held  it  high  in  the  air. 

"Given  me,"  the  professor  said  with  some  pride, 
"by  the  students  here  the  night  they  played  a  little 
drama  which  I  wrote,  entitled  'The  Great  Rebellion.' 
It  was  soon  after  the  war.  I  was  sorry  we  played  it, 
for  several  people,  and  they  were  my  friends,  too,  were 
offended  because  I  made  Jeff  Davis  quote,  as  applicable 
to  himself,  the  language  of  Satan: 

"  '  Me  miserable,  which  way  shall  I  fly 
Infinite  wrath  and  infinite  despair? 
Which  way  I  fly  is  hell;  myself  am  hell.'  " 

Jim  said  that  he  must  read  the  drama.  The  professor 
told  him  that  the  manuscript  had  been  lost.  "  But," 
he  continued,  "here  is  the  flag  with  'not  a  stripe 


104  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

erased  or  polluted,  nor  a  single  star  obscured.'" 
It  so  happened  that  the  flag  had  not  for  many  a  year 
been  hung  out  to  the  breeze,  and  its  singular  old  owner, 
as  he  moved  about  talking  with  Jim,  looked  up  at  it 
from  time  to  time  with  beaming  eyes.  It  mattered 
not  that  Jim  had  found  no  loftier  place  for  it  than  the 
top  of  a  high  gate  post.  That  was  just  as  good  as  a 
house  gable  or  a  staff;  better,  the  professor  felt,  for  there 
it  was  near  at  hand  and  people  going  in  and  out  would 
pass  close  under  it,  and,  besides,  in  so  lowly  and  common 
a  place  it  seemed  to  more  properly  represent  the  sen- 
timent of  the  home.  It  domesticated  patriotism. 

Breakfast  over,  Prof.  Bland  and  Jim  took  chairs  in 
the  cool  morning  shade  at  the  west  of  the  house,  a  place 
commanding  a  view  of  the  road  running  by  the  woods 
in  which  the  celebration  was  to  be  held.  Jim  had 
brought  down  the  paper  on  which  he  had  scribbled 
the  parody,  and  read  the  lines  to  his  teacher,  who  was 
as  much  amused  as  anyone  might  be  by  such  a  perfor- 
mance. Very  well  it  was,  he  said  to  Jim,  that  so  great 
a  poet  as  Shakespeare  should  be  made  in  any  way  to 
contribute  to  so  grand  a  theme  as  the  Fourth  of  July. 
In  the  year  that  Jim  had  attended  school  at  College 
Hill  he  and  the  professor  had  come  to  be  warm  friends 
and  were  often  together.  Jim  was  one  of  those  rare 
young  people  who  enjoy  the  society  of  their  elders  as 
much  as  association  with  companions  of  their  own  age, 
and,  besides,  he  found  the  professor,  with  his  deformity 
and  all  his  oddities,  intensely  interesting.  He  loved  to 
observe  the  expression  and  feeling  with  which  he  quoted 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  105 

poetry  and  talked  about  the  souls  of  great  writers  of 
both  prose  and  verse.  He  was  amused  and  entertained 
by  many  of  the  old-fashioned,  pedagogic  manners  of 
the  professor  and  perhaps  he  was  attracted  most  of  all 
by  the  mystery  that  seemed  to  surround  the  inner  life 
of  the  old  man,  for  with  respect  to  himself  and  his  family 
connections  the  professor  was  always  silent.  He 
seemed  never  to  have  had  a  brother  or  sister  or  relative, 
though  there  was  a  rumor  that  out  of  his  meager  means 
he  was  supporting  a  helpless  sister  somewhere. 

Jim  was  a  favorite  with  the  professor  on  account 
of  the  young  man's  buoyant  and  hopeful  spirit,  the 
intelligence  with  which  he  discussed  subjects  which 
often  those  of  his  age  had  not  begun  to  think  about, 
and  the  interest  he  took  in  all  the  professor  said.  Per- 
haps the  professor  also  felt,  without  being  really  con- 
scious of  it,  that  there  was  sympathy  for  him  in  the 
youth's  heart,  for  Jim  was  discerning  enough  to  have 
perceived  that  in  the  history  of  Prof.  Eland's  life,  though 
the  record  could  not  be  easily  read,  there  had  been  many 
a  bitter  chapter. 

Since  daylight  the  huckster's  wagon  had  been  rattling 
back  and  forth  between  his  store  and  the  grounds. 

"I  see  that  the  huckster  is  very  diligent  in  getting 
the  grounds  prepared  for  us  today,"  said  the  professor. 
"I  hope  we  will  have  a  good  time,  for  it  has  been  a 
number  of  years  since  we  attempted  to  have  a  cele- 
bration here." 

"I  would  have  liked  it  better,"  Jim  said,  "if  the 
arrangements  had  not  been  left  alone  to  the  huckster 


106  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

and  the  blacksmith,  for  their  interest  seems  to  be  too 
mercenary." 

"  But  somebody  must  always  take  the  lead  in  such  a 
matter/'  the  professor  replied,  "and  I  suppose  the  two 
men  are  entitled  to  compensation  some  way  for  their 
time  and  pains,  and  they  cannot  hope  to  make  a  great 
amount.  Even  if  their  interest  is  only  personal,  I 
would  rather  have  this  celebration  than  none  at  all." 

"So  would  I,"  said  Jim,  thinking  that  it  was  only 
this  that  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  see  Bertha  again 
so  soon;  "for,"  he  added,  "it  will  be  a  good  thing  for 
the  people." 

"Do  you  know  that  Miss  Bertha  and  some  of  her 
family  are  coming  up?"  asked  the  professor. 

Jim  blushed,  and  answered,  as  if  it  were  nothing  at  all 
in  the  world : "  Yes,  she  told  me  the  day  she  went  home." 

"She  is  developing  into  an  elegant  lady  and  I  am 
glad  she  is  evidently  a  little  fond  of  us  up  here." 

The  implication  of  a  diffusion  of  the  girl's  affection 
touched  a  jealous  nerve  in  Jim  and  impelled  him  to  say  : 

"She  told  me  she  must  come  up  to  hear  my  speech." 

"Ah?  Well,  I  have  no  doubt  it  will  be  worth  coming 
some  distance  to  hear." 

"Far  from  it,  Professor,  but  did  she  tell  you,  too, 
that  she  was  coming  up?" 

"  No,  I  heard  it  from  Mr.  Gassier.  He  has  li ved  more 
or  less  in  her  neighborhood,  and,  being  down  there  a 
few  days  ago,  happened  to  hear  something  said  about 
her  coming.  I  think  it  was  last  Sunday  probably. 

"  And  Mr.  Gassier  told  me,  that  he  guessed  that  there 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  107 

was  a  special  attraction  for  Bertha  here  since  you  were 
to  remain  over  the  Fourth" ;  and  he  looked  at  Jim  very 
pleasantly.  "You  know  her  parents  and  family?" 
he  added. 

"  No,  I  have  not  met  them  yet." 

"Yet?"  and  the  professor  turned  his  face  triumph- 
antly toward  the  young  man.  And  then,  as  if  fully 
satisfied:  "You  will  find  them  very  pleasant  and  in- 
teresting people." 

Jim  was  laughing  a  little  at  himself  and  his  "yet," 
which  he  told  the  professor  might,  after  all,  mean 
nothing,  but  he  spoke  as  if  suggesting  only  that  he  have 
the  benefit  of  a  doubt.  He  felt  not  a  little  gratified 
that  there  appeared  to  be  no  question  with  the  professor 
but  that  he  was  full  old  enough  to  have  to  do  seriously 
with  such  matters. 

By  this  time  the  people  who  lived  at  some  distance 
were  beginning  to  gather  at  the  grove,  and  Jim  was  in- 
terested in  observing  the  "outfits"  as  they  passed  up 
the  road.  It  was  not  a  region  where  prosperity  attended 
ordinary  farming,  and  the  unpainted  and  occasionally 
dilapidated  wagons  creaked  along,  drawn  by  horses 
showing  plainly  the  effects  of  overwork  or  short  rations. 
No  pretty  little  flags  adorned  their  bridles,  and  for 
minutes  at  a  time  there  could  have  been  doubt  whether 
it  were  a  holiday  pageant  or  a  funeral  procession. 

Jim  on  another  occasion  might  have  been  critical, 
but  at  this  moment  the  whole  spectacle  had  somewhat 
of  the  air  of  chivalry,  an  illusion  to  which  the  young  man 
was  assisted  by  the  appearance  now  and  then  of  a  really 


108 


gay  rig.  For  instance,  that  of  Al  Romans,  a  self-taught 
farmer-lawyer,  distinguished  for  his  vehement  and  big- 
worded  discussion  of  intricate  subjects  and  for  his  skill 
in  discomfiting  and  oftentimes  putting  to  rout  the  "  town 
lawyers"  when  they  at  rare  intervals  came  out  to  try 
cases  before  a  rural  justice.  Al  drove  a  pair  of  smart, 
nimble  blacks  to  a  well-kept  buggy,  himself  wearing  on 
his  legal  head  a  stovepipe  hat  and  carrying  a  line  of  flags 
on  his  whip.  At  sight  of  this  Jim  felt  like  clapping  his 
hands. 

Presently  was  heard  the  sound  of  fife  and  drum,  and 
looking  in  the  direction  from  which  it  came,  it  could  be 
seen  that  the  celebrated  "  Five  Boys  "  were  approaching 
with  a  small  following  from  their  part  of  the  country. 

Jim  believed  that  Bertha  and  her  party  might  now 
arrive  at  any  time,  and  at  his  suggestion  he  and  the  pro- 
fessor started  for  the  grove. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
A  LOVER  ALARMED. 

"BROTHER  CHARLIE'S"  week  of  pastoral  visitation 
had  been  shortened  to  two  days,  but  he  came  to  the 
Good  Hope  neighborhood  again  two  weeks  later,  and 
this  time  with  what  no  one  could  doubt  was  a  perfectly 
sound  excuse,  for  it  was  to  officiate  at  a  marriage  of 
members  of  his  congregation. 

Never  had  Cupid,  he  thought,  done  him  so  good  a  turn 
by  shooting  arrows  into  the  hearts  of  others,  and  it  was 
with  a  vague  sense  of  some  sort  of  advantageous  nuptial 
incense  clinging  to  his  garments  that  he  went  over  to 
the  Old  Plantation  on  the  evening  of  July  third.  He 
felt  that  he  was  taking  with  him  an  atmosphere,  was 
enveloped  in  some  tenuous,  dainty  cloud  of  sentiment 
and  suggestion  that  would  exercise  a  subtle  and  power- 
ful spell  needed  in  his  behalf. 

Bertha,  while  she  listened  with  much  interest  to  the 
description  he  gave  of  the  ceremony  and  the  occasion, 
asked  no  questions  about  it  herself,  not  knowing,  since 
the  evening  they  rode  from  the  river  together,  just  what 
a  conversation  between  her  and  the  preacher  about 
weddings  might  lead  to  even  in  the  presence  of  others  or 
what  it  might  put  into  his  head  to  say  to  her  in  private 
afterwards.  So  the  talk  was  mainly  between  "  Brother 
Charlie  "  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Garrett,  Bertha  making  only 

109 


110  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

casual  remarks,  so  long  as  the  subject  was  the  recent 
wedding,  to  show  she  had  not  been  stricken  dumb. 

This  wedding,  coming  on  the  top  of  a  week  spent 
in  reading  and  re-reading  "A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream/'  had  an  exciting  influence  on  "  Shiftless  Henry." 
He  also  was  at  the  Plantation  on  the  evening  of  the  third 
to  report  the  final  arrangements  for  the  trip  to  the 
College  Hill  celebration  on  the  morrow.  The  spring 
wagon  was  to  be  used.  One  of  Bertha's  friends  and  her 
beau,  Bertha  and  himself  and  one  of  the  Plantation's 
hired  men  would  compose  the  party,  the  hired  man  to 
sit  in  the  front  seat  and  do  the  driving — this  was  the 
way  Henry  "calkilated"  it. 

Finding  this  little  excursion  afoot,  the  preacher, 
exercising  a  peculiar  faculty  of  his  calling,  contrived  to 
get  himself  invited,  and  remarked  that  now,  perhaps,  it 
would  be  necessary  for  two  of  them  to  ride  in  the  single 
carriage. 

"  That  would  be  the  thing  for  you  and  me,  wouldn't 
it,  Bertha?"  he  asked. 

Henry's  old  school  teacher  would  have  been  astonished 
and  refreshed,  had  he  been  there,  at  the  promptness 
with  which  his  dull  pupil  assumed  to  answer  this 
question  himself.  The  response  was  bold  and  firm. 

"  Not  nethethary  at  all,"  he  said.  "  Only  make  more 
hitchin'  up.  They  ith  six  of  uth.  They  ith  three 
theath,  two  on  a  theat,  an'  the  springth  ith  good  an' 
sound." 

Henry,  without  being  aware  of  it,  had  sniffed  the 
substanceless  nuptial  aroma  on  the  preacher  and  had 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  111 

been  by  it  inspirited.  He  looked  about  him  with  firm 
regard,  surprised  at  himself. 

"You  will  not  be  quite  so  crowded,  with  your  lunch 
baskets  and  so  on,  if  you  take  the  carriage,"  quietly 
remarked  Mr.  Garrett  to  them  all. 

"  Only  differenth  will  be  with  the  driver,"  said  Henry 
very  respectfully. 

"And,  papa,  it  will  be  so  much  nicer  for  us  all  to  be 
together,"  Bertha  said  almost  pleadingly. 

And  there  the  matter  was  left. 

Only  the  spring  wagon  was  at  the  gate  in  the  morning. 

"'Shif ,"  Bertha  whispered  when  the  time  for  starting 
had  about  arrived,  "  you  be  sure  to  get  in  the  back  seat 
with  me." 

"I  will,"  he  answered,  thrilled  and  electrified. 

But  in  an  unguarded  moment  he  was  adjusting  some 
part  of  the  harness  when  Abner  Garrett  assisted  Bertha 
into  the  wagon,  and,  lo !  the  preacher  followed  her  up 
so  quickly  that  Bertha's  warning  hint,  "Well,  'Shif '," 
was  without  avail. 

Henry  trembled  with  vexation  as  he  clambered  up  to 
the  only  remaining  place  beside  the  hired  man,  pausing 
only  for  a  moment  of  astonishment  and  mortification  at 
the  slip  betwixt  that  sweet  cup  and  his  lips.  He  could 
not  comprehend  how  it  happened.  In  his  mourning  as 
they  drove  on  he  thought  of  enchantment.  He  had 
read  about  that  in  "A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream." 

Henry  observed  before  a  great  while  that  there  was 
very  little  conversation  directly  between  Bertha  and 
"Brother  Charlie,"  and  he  was  well  pleased  at  the 


112  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

alacrity  with  which  she  responded  to  his  own  efforts  to 
divert  her  attention  to  himself  and  show  the  preacher 
how  really  unimportant  he  was. 

They  probably  did  not  pass  a  single  house  on  the  road 
without ' '  Shif  V '  asking  Bertha  if  she  knew  that  So-and-So 
lived  there  or  who  did  live  there,  and  at  one  place,  seeing 
some  hens  on  the  top  of  a  corn  crib,  he  repeated  the  old 
saw  about  chickens  being  wise  enough  to  perch  high 
when  preachers  were  about.  This  was  the  worst  he 
could  do  and  there  was  enough  laughter  at  it  to  gratify 
him  exceedingly. 

It  was  new  work  for  "Shif,"  this  trying  to  annoy  a 
rival,  and  so  interested  did  he  become  at  it  that  his 
disappointment  in  not  being  Bertha's  seatmate  passed 
away.  An  hour  after  the  start,  if  he  had  been  given  his 
choice,  he  would  probably  have  elected  to  remain  where 
he  was. 

As  Professor  Bland  and  Jim  were  about  to  leave  the 
road  and  enter  the  beeches  at  one  side  they  could  see 
the  wagon  containing  Bertha  and  her  party  entering  at 
the  other.  And  then  for  the  first  time  the  old  man 
became  a  burden  to  the  youth,  for  Jim  could  not  follow 
his  strong  impulse  to  hasten  his  steps  without  deserting 
his  crippled  companion.  But  he  hurried  him  along  as 
much  as  possible  by  keeping  a  lead  of  several  feet, 
though  not  without  reproaching  himself  for  causing  the 
professor  to  struggle  in  a  precipitate  manner  over  roots 
and  fallen  branches  in  his  effort  to  keep  up,  for  the  pro- 
fessor, poor  man,  prided  himself  on  his  agility  and 
would  never  have  been  willing  to  admit  that  anyone 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  113 

was  going  too  fast  for  him  unless  actually  running. 
They  presently  saw  the  Plantation  party  halting 
under  the  branches  of  a  mammoth  beech,  all  yet  seated  in 
the  wagon,  apparently  undecided  whether  this  were  the 
best  place  to  make  their  camp.  While  the  professor 
and  Jim  were  still  several  yards  away  salutations  were 
exchanged  with  nods  and  gestures,  and  "Shif"  cried 
loudly : 

"Profethor,  at  the  duke'th  oak  we  meet." 
The  professor,  now  almost  breathless  on  account  of 
the  exertion  Jim  had  put  him  to,  was  smiling  and  evi- 
dently about  to  reply  when  the  quintuple  fife  and  drum 
corps  started  up  a  deafening  din,  playing  "The  Girl  I 
Left  Behind  Me."  Jim  felt  that  there  was  just  suffi- 
cient suggestiveness  in  the  piece  to  constitute  some  sort 
of  joke  on  him  and  Bertha,  and  smiled  at  her.  He  and 
the  professor  were  now  quite  up  to  the  wagon,  and 
"Shif, "  looking  first  at  the  professor  and  then  at  all 
the  others,  shouted  so  that  his  voice  might  overcome 

the  music: 

"  I  never  heard 
So  muthickal  a  dithcord,  thuch  thweet  thunder. 

"Those  fellowth  mutht  be  Quinth,  Thnug,  Bottom, 
Flute  an'  Thnout.  Ith  that  lean  fellow  thtanding 
near  'em  Thtarveling?  " 

"Well,  certainly,  they  are  going  to  play  for  us," 
said  the  professor;  and  now  Bertha,  who  had  already 
shaken  hands  with  Jim,  greeted  the  professor  warmly, 
and  found  an  opportunity,  which  "Shif "  had  delayed, 
of  introducing  such  of  those  present  as  were  strangers 
to  one  another. 


114  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"Shif"  had  never  in  his  life,  save  when  he  was  baptized 
(for  many  years  before  at  a  revival  and  on  his  mother's 
earnest  solicitation  he  had  professed  religion  and  been 
admitted  into  the  fellowship  of  the  Good  Hope  church) 
— never  save  this  once  had  he  heard  his  full  name 
pronounced.  "Henry  Anthony,"  the  preacher  had 
said  just  before  laying  him  back  into  the  water — 
"Henry  Anthony,  I  baptize  thee, "  etc.  From  the 
solemnity  of  the  circumstance  he  had  come  to  have  the 
impression  that,  however  it  might  be  with  other  people, 
it  was  proper  for  him  to  expect  the  use  of  his  stately 
full  name  only  on  occasions  of  serious  import.  He  was 
therefore  peculiarly  impressed  when  Bertha  said :  "  Mr. 
Pressley,  this  is  Mr.  Henry  Anthony."  Bertha's  voice 
seemed  to  him  like  that  of  a  priestess.  He  felt  that 
some  sacrament  was  going  on.  His  odd  spirit  exulted. 
He  was  now  sure,  anyway,  that  he,  Mr.  Henry  Anthony, 
had  carried  the  day  over  the  preacher,  but  before  he 
knew  it  Bertha  walked  away  with  Jim,  and  "Shif"  was 
again  puzzled  and  troubled.  Why  had  she  told  him  to 
be  sure  to  get  in  the  back  seat  with  her,  and  why  had 
she  called  him  Mr.  Henry  Anthony? 

The  crowd  was  by  no  means  a  lively  one.  Most  of 
the  people  appeared  to  be  simply  in  the  attitude  of 
expectancy.  The  most  noticeable  figure  was  that  of  a 
man  running  hither  and  thither  as  if  eagerly  in  search 
of  somebody  on  whom  great  interests  were  depending. 
This  apparition,  it  was  soon  observed,  was  one  of  the 
ministering  spirits  of  the  stand.  He  appeared  to  be 
working  in  two  capacities — looking  after  things  in 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  115 

general  at  the  stand,  and  after  things  in  general  out- 
side of  and  away  from  that  post.  It  was  Zach 
Gassier.  He  had  on  the  blacksmith's  wife's  apron, 
which  flew  about  more  lively  on  him  that  day  than 
it  had  ever  done  before. 

The  stand  was  on  one  side  of  the  grounds  beneath 
the  shade  of  a  large  beech.  Several  confectionery 
dignitaries  were  behind  the  rough  board  counters, 
chief  of  whom  was  the  huckster  in  all  his  glory,  attired 
in  his  best  Sunday  suit,  which  was  protected  by  a  large 
white  apron  that  reached  from  chest  to  knees  and  de- 
fined in  an  immense  smooth  disk  the  proportions  of  an 
ample  stomach.  He  was  in  his  most  amiable  mood  and 
was  dispensing  delicacies  to  occasional  customers  with 
much  grace  and  animation.  The  blacksmith,  too,  was 
busy  providing  water  and  ice  and  superintending  the 
manufacture  of  ice  cream  and  lemonade. 

The  president  of  the  debating  society,  who  was 
master  of  ceremonies,  moved  about  with  an  air  of 
great  importance.  As  a  mark  of  distinction  he  wore 
a  scarlet  sash  which  passed  diagonally  over  his  chest. 
The  responsibility  of  his  position  impressed  him 
strongly,  and  all  through  the  day  he  betrayed  great 
nervousness  lest  he  should  commit  some  blunder.  He 
made  a  strong  effort  to  comport  himself  with  such  dig- 
nity and  wisdom  as  to  show  that  the  sash  had  not 
been  tied  about  him  unworthily.  In  his  hand  he  carried 
a  pocket  ledger  in  which  he  made  an  entry  every  little 
while,  and  when  Jim  introduced  himself  and  told  him 
what  part  on  the  program  he  was  to  take,  he  wrote 
his  name  in  the  little  book. 


116  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Little  now  remained  but  to  set  the  machinery  of  the 
celebration  in  motion.  Effecting  a  series  of  beats  on 
the  snare  drum,  the  Nabob  announced  that  "the  per- 
formances "  were  about  to  begin,  and  invited  the  people 
forward.  Then  he  began  at  the  top  of  his  list  and 
called  out  the  names  of  those  on  the  program.  He 
would  keep  calling  the  name  of  each  until  there  was  a 
response  or  the  party  appeared,  so  that  those  of  the 
group  who  had  happened  to  be  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
assembly  had  to  advertise  themselves  by  a  loud  re- 
sponsive shout  or  suffer  rapid  and  vociferous  publicity 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Nabob. 

Jim  reluctantly  left  Bertha's  side  when  he  found  what 
the  plan  was  and,  hastening  to  the  front,  escaped 
notoriety  handsomely.  The  orator  of  the  day  was 
aroused  from  his  seat  on  a  pile  of  lumber  where  he  had 
quietly  been  chewing  his  tobacco.  This  man  was 
called  "Silver  Top,"  from  his  closely  cropped  white 
hair.  He  was  dressed  in  a  dusty  and  worn  suit  of  blue, 
with  dusty  and  worn  shoes  to  match.  He  was  followed 
by  "Brother  Charlie."  The  village  doctor  and  the 
maidens  and  a  few  young  men  were  in  their  place  around 
an  old  cabinet  organ. 

The  celebrated  "  Five  Boys  "  had  disappeared,  (there 
was  at  first  a  misunderstanding  about  their  pay),  and 
the  choir  for  an  opening  was  called  on  to  sing.  Then 
the  people  on  waves  of  sound  not  wholly  pleasing  or 
thoroughly  harmonious  were  carried  away  to  "Beulah 
Land,"  and  smelled  "the  sweet  perfume  upon  the 
breeze."  The  perfume,  Jim  declared  afterwards,  must 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  117 

have  been  old  Cologne  water  or  some  kind  of  rose  water, 
with  which  part  of  the  young  people  in  the  choir  had 
evidently  saturated  their  clothing. 

A  "zephyr  seemed  to  float"  to  Silver  Top,  for  he 
arose  delighted  while  the  singing  was  in  progress  and 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  piece  took  the  liberty  of 
smiling  upon  the  choristers  as  he  said:  "Thank  you, 
young  ladies,  and  fellers,  too." 

After  this  interruption  the  Nabob  jumped  up, 
spread  out  his  arms  and  announced  the  invocation  thus : 

"Now,  let's  all  stand  right  straight  up  in  the  air 
while  Mr.  Warner  prays";  and  "Brother  Charlie" 
prayed,  the  Nabob  in  the  meanwhile  looking  with  wide 
open  eyes  up  into  the  tree-tops.  It  is  supposed  that  he 
thought  his  reputation  for  skepticism,  of  which  he  was 
very  proud,  would  be  compromised  if  he  showed  a 
respectful  deference  to  the  religious  sentiments  of 
others  by  bowing  his  head  or  even  looking  to  the  ground. 

Music  by  the  choir  was  next  announced,  and  the 
doctor  and  his  band  sang  "  Hold  The  Fort,"  which,  if 
not  patriotic  in  character,  has  a  martial  ring  to  it. 
Whether  "Brother  Charlie"  had  intended  to  descend 
from  the  platform  while  the  choir  was  singing,  what- 
ever the  selection,  or  the  words  of  the  hymn  suggested 
some  practical  militancy  cannot  be  told  with  certainty, 
but  he  whispered  to  Jim :  "  I  must  get  down  where  I 
can  see  you  and  hear  you  better,"  and,  quietly  leaving 
the  platform,  he  made  his  way  around  to  where  Bertha 
was  sitting  and  took  a  place  by  her  side,  beating  by 
several  rods  "Shif,"  who  but  a  moment  before  had 


118  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

waked  up  to  the  fact  that,  with  both  Jim  and  the 
preacher  on  the  platform,  there  was  an  opportunity 
for  him  to  take  possession  of  the  deserted  field. 

The  preacher's  movements  somewhat  disconcerted 
Jim,  who  had  arranged  to  rejoin  Bertha  as  soon  as  the 
speech  was  over,  but  he  labored  to  compose  himself, 
for  his  part  of  the  program  was  at  hand.  His  youth, 
the  excellence  of  his  production  and  the  forcefulness  of 
his  delivery  combined  caused  a  murmur  of  admiration 
on  all  sides  which  more  than  once  broke  forth  into 
vigorous  cheering. 

A  hundred  times  in  one-tenth  as  many  minutes  the 
young  orator's  eyes  fell  on  Bertha's  sweet  and  animated 
face.  Nor  did  he  fail  to  observe  a  less  sympathetic 
but  not  less  close  attention  on  the  part  of  "Brother 
Charlie."  Prof.  Bland,  with  the  pride  of  a  teacher  and 
friend,  followed  very  carefully  every  sentence  his 
bright  pupil  uttered,  and  written  on  the  honest  face  of 
Shiftless  Henry  was  the  undisguised  rapture  of  a  simple 
mind.  Zach  Gassier,  too,  gave  expression  to  the 
liveliest  enthusiasm.  It  was  a  great  success  for  Jim. 

"Pretty  well  for  a  boy,"  said  "Brother  Charlie"  to 
Bertha  as  the  final  applause  subsided  and  Jim,  who 
had  at  first  resumed  his  seat,  was  stepping  to  the 
ground. 

"Pretty  well?"  the  girl  repeated.  "Why,  it  was 
just  splendid,  and  he  is  more  of  a  man  than  any  of  them. 
I  must  go  and  congratulate  him,"  and,  bouncing  up, 
she  went  to  meet  him,  leaving  the  preacher  to  such 
reflections  as  might  come. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  119 

The  reputation  of  "Silver  Top"  caused  much  to  be 
expected  from  him.  It  was  anticipated  that  a  profuse 
stream  of  eloquence  and  humor  would  issue  forth  from 
his  mouth,  but  he  proved  to  be  a  disappointment. 
Leaning  on  one  elbow  and  shooting  one  hand  toward 
the  sky,  he  began :  "The  day  we  celebrate — thank  Gahd 
for  the  Fourth  of  July,"  and  then  followed  for  fifteen 
minutes  a  marvelous  train  of  ill-formed  but  high- 
sounding  sentences  and  stale  patriotic  platitudes, 
eulogies  and  encomiums.  It  was  the  spreading  of  a 
moulted  eagle.  Weary  of  his  task,  he  declared  that 
the  wind  had  been  taken  out  of  his  sails  by  "the  elo- 
quent young  man"  who  had  preceded  him,  and  that 
he  didn't  believe  "  much  in  chin  music  on  the  Fourth  of 
July,  anyway."  It  was  dinner  time,  he  said,  and  if 
the  people  felt  as  he  did  they  wanted  something  to  eat. 

The  Nabob,  conscious  that  his  program  was  being 
sadly  disarranged  by  this  unexpected  falling  off, 
pressed  "Silver  Top"  to  continue  twenty  minutes  or 
half  an  hour  longer,  (as  it  yet  lacked  forty-five  minutes 
of  noon  and  it  would  be  a  frightful  mismanagement  of 
things  to  stop  for  dinner  so  early).  But  all  urging  was 
thrown  away  on  the  old  colonel,  who  could  say  no  more. 
The  father  of  the  Five  Boys,  who  had  an  honorary  seat 
on  the  platform,  the  "lean  feller"  to  whom  "Shif"  had 
referred,  was  entreated  to  "  make  some  remarks,"  but 
he  declared  he  was  not  "in  a  speakin'  humor,"  so  the 
disappointed  Nabob  had  no  alternative  but  to  proclaim 
an  intermission  until  beat  of  the  drum. 

Of  course  Jim  and  Prof.  Bland  were  invited  to  take 


120  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

picnic  dinner  with  the  company  from  the  Old  Plan- 
tation. This  was  an  event  for  which  Bertha  had  made 
solicitous  preparation,  and  the  contents  of  the  basket 
which  she  now  unpacked  represented  the  choicest  of  all 
the  choice  products  that  had  ever  come  out  of  the 
Garrett  kitchen. 

Here  was  a  cake  with  parapet  and  mounted  cannon 
in  the  frosting;  here  another  with  an  American  flag  in  the 
real  colors  spread  on  the  top,  and  a  bunch  of  sponge- 
rolls  in  imitation  of  firecrackers  was  handed  to  Jim. 
Prof.  Bland  called  it  patriotic  poetry  in  pastry. 

"Brother  Charlie,"  too,  and  Jim  and  indeed  all  of 
the  company  were  each  having  some  fine  thing  to  say 
about  the  virtue  and  variety  of  the  dainties  when 
Gassier  came  over  from  the  stand,  lugging  a  pail  of 
lemonade  and  a  smaller  pail  of  ice  cream.  Running 
his  eyes  over  the  party  and  addressing  no  one  in  par- 
ticular, he  said :  "  Want  you  to  have  my  compliments." 

Bertha  thanked  him  very  indifferently  and  told  him 
that  they  had  brought  with  them  from  home  materials 
for  both  lemonade  and  ice  cream,  and  plenty,  too,  as 
he  could  see.  But  Gassier  put  down  the  pails,  saying : 
"  Well,  they're  your'n,  anyway,  and  you  can  see  which 
makes  better,  you  or  me,"  and  he  went  back  to  the 
stand. 

About  the  time  the  dinner  was  over  he  returned  in 
haste,  carrying  another  pail  of  lemonade  which  he  said 
he  would  exchange  for  the  first,  of  which  he  said  he 
hoped  they  had  drunk  little,  because  there  was  some- 
thing wrong  with  it.  It  was  not,  however,  with  satis- 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE  121 

faction  that  he  noticed,  as  he  took  it  up,  that  not  a 
drop  had  been  taken  from  it,  but  his  disappointment 
on  this  account  was  partially  offset  when  he  observed 
that  a  liberal  draught  had  been  made  on  the  ice  cream 
which  he  had  brought.  He  would  have  taken  no 
pleasure  in  this  if  he  had  known  that  it  was  only  the 
preacher's  doing.  "  Brother  Charlie, "  in  a  little  fit  of 
petulance  at  not  having  received  from  Bertha  the  at- 
tention that  he  usually  did,  would  not  agree  with  her 
that  they  must  all  have  the  ice  cream  that  she  had 
made,  and  insisted  himself  on  scooping  up  and  passing 
around  several  dishes  of  that  which  Gassier  had  so 
urgently  presented. 

Gassier  having  again  departed,  Jim  determined  to 
find  out  what  was  the  matter  with  the  lemonade.  It 
was  at  the  dinner  hour  that  a  scandalous  rumor  spread 
abroad  reflecting  on  the  excellent  reputation  that  the 
huckster  and  his  assistants  had  so  far  through  the  day 
sustained. 

Some  were  of  the  opinion  that  the  water  for  the 
mixture  had  been  carried  over  in  an  old,  unwashed 
vinegar  barrel  that  had  lain  perhaps  for  months  about 
the  huckster's  store.  Others  were  inclined  to  believe 
that  the  taint  was  from  coal  oil.  Jim  tasted  carefully 
and  gave  his  verdict  in  favor  of  the  vinegar,  though 
when  he  reported  to  his  own  party  he  said  that  he  had 
expressed  his  judgment  with  great  diffidence,  inasmuch 
as  an  old  mechanic  who  was  well  versed  in  paints,  oils 
and  varnishes  had  said  it  was  undoubtedly  coal  oil. 

Since  there  were  on  the  grounds  no  amusements  even 


122  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

for  young  people,  and  an  hour  of  promiscuous  visiting 
was  beginning  to  wear  itself  out,  the  beat  of  the  drum 
which  the  Nabob  had  promised  was  hailed  with  a 
general  welcome. 

Jim  and  Bertha,  having  now  spent  two  hours  with 
the  others  of  the  Plantation  party,  felt  at  liberty  to  be 
more  exclusive,  and  contrived  it  the  easiest  in  the  world 
to  detach  themselves  from  the  rest. 

"Brother  Charlie"  was  walking  aimlessly  about, 
without,  however,  having  been  abruptly  deserted  by 
anyone,  when  he  was  joined  by  Gassier.  They  talked 
for  some  time.  The  preacher's  face  was  a  picture  of 
gloom. 

"I  believe,"  said  he,  "that  you  better  do  what  you 
said  a  few  weeks  ago  you  would  do  if  the  case  seemed 
to  be  really  serious." 

"Have  you  made  your  proposition  to  her?"  asked 
Gassier. 

"  I  suppose  you  might  say  I  had." 

"  Refuse  ye?  "  was  the  incisive  query.  It  cut  like  a 
knife. 

"Not  quite  in  so  many  words,  but  just  the  same 
thing.  She's  infatuated  with  this  young  fellow, 
Pressley — you  can  see  how's  she's  acting  today. 
Never  treated  me  this  way  before." 

"I  swear  I  thought  ye  had  an  edge  on  him  you'd 
keep  all  day  when  I  saw  you  ridin'  in  this  morning 
settin'  right  aside  of  her." 

"That  was  nothing.  Scarcely  spoke  a  word  to  me 
all  the  way  up." 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  123 

"  Well,  I  don't  'xactly  like  to  tell  the  young  feller  a 
lie  'bout  her,"  said  Gassier  scratching  his  head. 

The  preacher's  lip  curled. 

"It  would  be  practically  the  truth,"  he  replied,  "and 
something  I  might  just  as  well  have  the  advantage 
of  if  there  is  any  advantage  in  it." 

"But  these  things  are  all  likely  to  come  out  some 
day,  and  if  ye  get  her  in  such  a  way  as  that  ye  wouldn't 
want  'em  to." 

"What  has  made  you  change  your  mind  so  soon? 
You  thought  it  would  be  a  good  plan.  I  thought  so. 
You  suggested  it  yourself.  You  promised  to  do  it, 
and  I  want  you  to  do  it.  It  may  work  all  right.  If 
not,  no  harm's  done." 

"Harm's  done  either  way,  but  I  told  you  I'd  do  it 
and  I'll  keep  my  word — I'll  do  it,"  was  the  dogged 
response.  The  fulfilment  came  swiftly. 

Jim  had  seen  the  Plantation  party  off  for  home  and 
was  starting  to  leave  the  grove  himself  when  Gassier 
accosted  him  and  said  with  an  affectation  of  merriment : 

"  Have  all  the  fun  out  of  it  you  can.  It's  all  right 
as  long  as  you  don't  know,  but  don't  let  the  thing  go 
too  far,  'cause  you'll  want  to  drop  it  when  you  come  to 
know.  Maybe  you  do  know.  If  you  do  it's  all  right. 
Then  you  know  just  where  you  are." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Jim  in  astonishment 
and  not  without  a  sense  of  outrage  that  the  rough 
Gassier  had  thus  intruded  upon  so  tender  a  matter. 

"I  'lowed  as  p'rhaps  I'd  ought  to  tell  you,"  said 
Gassier,  assuming  a  serious  air.  "The  girl's  a  peach, 


124  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

but  she's  got  darkey  blood  in  her.  If  you're  thinkin' 
much  of  her  I'm  sorry  to  blurt  it  out  to  you,  but  it's  a 
fact.  Her  mother's  a  nigger.  It  don't  show  a  great 
sight,  but  it's  there." 

Jim  looked  at  Gassier  a  moment  in  great  disgust, 
and  then  walked  away  without  a  word,  but  with  poison 
dropped  in  his  heart, 


CHAPTER  X. 
IN  PERPLEXITY. 

JIM  PRESSLEY'S  only  feeling  at  first,  as  he  left  Gassier, 
was  one  of  mingled  wonder  and  resentment — wonder 
that  he  had  become  the  object  of  the  cobbler's  enmity; 
resentment,  unbounded,  on  account  of  the  meanness 
and  coarseness  of  an  insult  which  was  made  to  reach 
him  only  by  including  the  rare  and  fair  being  whom 
of  all  the  world  he  loved  best. 

Before  he  had  reached  the  boarding  house  a  thousand 
thoughts  were  in  his  mind,  and  every  one  tormented 
him.  On  reflection  he  had  realized  that,  after  all,  if 
Gassier  spoke  with  malice,  he  had  dissembled  it,  and 
indeed  his  outward  manner  had  been  that  of  a  friend, 
rather  than  an  enemy,  seeking  awkwardly,  abruptly 
and  out  of  season,  it  is  true,  to  end  the  delusion  of  one 
whom  he  esteemed. 

Gassler's  tone  had  not  been  one  of  spite  or  triumph. 
Pressley  now  realized  that  there  was  even  a  trace  of 
regret  in  it,  as  if  duty  or,  at  any  rate,  a  not  unworthy 
personal  interest  had  compelled  the  words,  and  there- 
fore, on  this  sole  account,  he  began  to  fear — and  so  be 
disloyal  to  Bertha!  So  soon,  too,  and  on  account  of 
the  words  of  one  for  whom  Bertha  had  said  she  had  an 
aversion ! 

He  would  not  think  of  it,  and  straightway  began 
125 


126  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

quite  wilfully  to  kindle  again  into  full  flame  the  anger 
at  Gassier  which  his  late  reflections  had  caused  some- 
what to  subside. 

Then  the  poison  resumed  its  work. 

Why  did  Bertha  so  dislike  the  man?  Was  it  because 
she  knew  he  possessed  knowledge  which,  if  he  revealed 
it,  would  injure  her? 

Jim  also  thought,  with  a  start,  that  the  College  had 
been  founded  primarily  for  the  instruction  of  colored 
people  who  could  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity 
it  afforded.  Had  this  fact  any  present  significance? 

And  was  there  anything  back  of  Prof.  Eland's  ques- 
tion when  he  had  asked  Jim  that  very  morning  if  he 
had  seen  Bertha's  parents? 

Or  did  any  unusual  meaning  lie  in  the  professor's 
remark  that  Jim  would  find  them  very  interesting 
people?  No,  there  could  not  possibly  have  been. 

And,  after  all,  were  not  his  own  eyes  good?  Had  he 
not  a  thousand  times  witnessed  with  the  highest  satis- 
faction and  admiration  her  complexion  undergo  all 
manner  of  tests  with  eminent  glory — the  sunlight,  the 
moonlight,  the  lamplight,  wind,  dust  and  the  dark? 
Was  she  not  a  blonde?  Was  her  skin  not  fairer  and 
more  delicate  than  that  of  any  of  ten  thousand  blondes? 
Was  not  her  hair  finer  and  softer?  How,  then,  could 
it  be  possible  that  she  had  the  faintest  trace  of  the 
Ethiopian  about  her?  More  likely,  thought  Jim,  that 
he  himself  had. 

It  was  in  spite  of  himself  that  Jim  thought  about 
these  things,  for  he  tried  again  and  again  to  drive  them 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  127 

from  his  mind,  and  he  cursed  himself  for  allowing  so 
foolish  a  suspicion  to  disturb  him.  After  all  the  vari- 
ous assurances  of  a  lover,  which  he  had  repeated  to 
Bertha  with  ever  and  ever  renewed  emphasis,  he 
was  forced  to  admit  that  they  were  too  strong,  since 
so  quickly  and  with  such  poor  excuse  he  felt  distrust. 

As  he  walked  along  through  the  student's  play- 
ground, which  was  also  the  president's  horse  pasture, 
on  the  crown  of  the  hill,  toward  the  boarding  house 
the  tombstones  of  the  president's  parents,  on  the  next 
hill,  were  plainly  visible.  They  were  still  looking  out 
over  the  stone  wall  and  seemed  to  Jim  to  have  a  calm 
expression  of  solemn  and  holy  vindictiveness,  as  if  they 
were  saying  to  him : 

"In  words  of  folly  and  recklessness  and  vanity  you 
profaned  this  spot.  It  was  in  the  passion  of  a  lover 
and  in  behalf  of  your  love,  but  your  punishment  is 
upon  you." 

And  Jim  remembered  what  he  and  Bertha  had  said 
there — A  photograph  of  those  graves  and  headstones 
as  a  companion  piece  for  their  marriage  certificate — 
"  A  pair  of  turtle  doves  on  one  side  and  a  pair  of  tomb- 
stones, with  a  stone  wall  around  them,  on  the  other." 

And  he  remembered  his  discourse  about  a  heaven  on 
earth,  and  Bertha's  description  of  a  precious  little 
universe  under  a  lamp  shade,  and  his  own  sufficient 
little  world  under  the  rim  of  her  hat.  This  little  world 
seemed  farther  away  now  and  that  light  under  the 
lamp  shade  more  distant.  Was  it  to  recede  and  be  far 
away  forever  like  a  star? 


128  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

And  from  the  tombstones  Jim's  eyes  turned  down 
into  the  graveyard,  to  the  clump  of  beech  trees  where 
in  the  bark  Bertha's  initials  and  his  own  were  cut.  He 
tried  to  keep  himself  from  wishing  they  were  not  there, 
and  went  on  to  the  boarding  house. 

"I  think  Mr.  Pressley  must  be  suffering  from  the 
reaction  of  his  exertions  today,"  said  Mrs.  Stephens, 
the  matron,  at  the  supper  table.  "See  how  pale  and 
worried  he  looks." 

He  inquired  how  the  children  had  enjoyed  the 
Fourth,  and  when  the  meal  was  over,  he  proposed  as  a 
project  for  the  relief  of  his  own  feelings  and  to  divert 
careful  notice  from  himself,  a  grand  frolic  with  fire- 
crackers and  such  minor  and  meager  contrivances  for 
spectacular  fireworks  as  might  be  found  in  the  huckster's 
store. 

Fearing  that  he  might  meet  Gassier  if  he  went  for 
them  himself,  he  sent  the  matron's  boy.  He  handed 
out  a  sum  of  money  that  made  the  little  purchasing 
agent  feel  like  a  man  who  is  the  trustee  of  millions, 
and  instructed  him  to  buy  every  variety  of  powder- 
plaything  there  was  in  the  shop.  The  lad  discharged 
his  mission  with  such  enthusiastic  fidelity  that,  though 
Pressley  suspected  he  would  have  all  too  little  to  choose 
from,  he  presently  returned  quite  loaded  down  with 
red  and  yellow  cylinders,  big  and  little. 

Pressley  superintended  the  carnival  of  fire  and  noise 
as  soon  as  it  was  grown  dusk,  and  managed  success- 
fully to  make  it  appear  that  there  was  not  a  youngster 
in  the  village  that  night  more  boyish  and  light-hearted 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  129 

than  he.  The  explosions  and  illuminations  attracted 
what  few  children  had  not  been  already  drawn  by 
the  fame  of  the  Stephens  boy's  purchase,  and  Jim  was 
again  a  ten-year-old  and  the  king  of  the  crowd. 

Nor  was  his  enjoyment  of  the  sport  wholly  simulated. 
While  it  lasted  he  succeeded  well  in  forgetting  what 
had  so  recently  troubled  him,  but  when  it  was  all  over 
and  he  went  to  his  room  those  visions  of  happiness  on 
which  he  had  so  often  and  so  fondly  dwelt  returned, 
to  be  bright  only  for  the  instant  they  were  freshly 
caught,  and  then  they  grew  pale  again.  So  was  his 
strife  renewed  to  give  them  the  color  that  they  had  but 
less  than  a  half  a  day  before. 

Jim  made  but  a  poor  night  of  it.  In  the  black 
hours  a  great  resolution  came  to  him.  Seeking  an 
opportunity  in  the  morning  to  speak  with  Prof.  Bland 
alone,  he  asked  with  diffidence : 

"You  have  known  Miss  Garrett's  people  for  some 
time?" 

"A  good  many  years." 

"She  has  told  me  they  came  north  on  account  of 
their  feeling  regarding  slavery." 

"Yes.  It  was  not  pleasant  for  those  in  the  south 
whose  consciences  led  them  to  oppose  slavery." 

"  I  suppose  that  is  the  only  reason  that  brought  them 
north?"  the  young  man  suggested,  with  a  mingled 
sense  of  timidity  and  dread. 

"That  is  the  only  reason  they  ever  gave." 

"It  doesn't  seem  possible  that  there  could  be  any 
race  mixture  in  Miss  Garrett  from  either  side  of  the 
house." 


130  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Prof.  Bland  was  not  so  much  surprised  at  this  sug- 
gestion as  Jim  had  hoped  he  would  be. 

"In  Miss  Bertha?"  the  professor  said,  seeming  to  be 
thinking  faster  than  he  was  speaking.  "Ridiculous! 
Her  parents  are  as  white  as  I  am." 

"Well  I  had  only  heard  some  insinuations,"  said 
Jim,  whose  brother  Fred  arrived  at  this  moment  from 
Madison  in  a  buggy  to  take  him  home. 

Since  early  in  the  spring  Fred  had  been  working  on 
a  peach  farm,  belonging  to  a  friend  of  his  father's, 
located  in  Kentucky  twelve  miles  from  Madison. 
His  work  was  not  hard  and  he  found  his  situation  most 
agreeable,  affording  him,  as  it  did,  an  opportunity  to 
observe  ways  and  manners  far  different  from  those 
with  which  he  had  been  familiar  in  a  western  and  a 
prairie  state.  All  the  hands,  Fred  told  Jim,  as  they 
rode  along,  were  pleasant  to  work  with  and  some  of 
them  were  exceedingly  interesting  for  personal  pecul- 
iarities. 

"Any  darkies  working  over  there?"  asked  Jim. 

"  Country's  full  of  'em.  Only  one  or  two  about  our 
place  now.  There  will  be  lots  of  them  when  they  get 
to  shipping,  I  presume.  Say,  Jim,  it  will  be  picking 
time  pretty  soon  and  you  can  have  a  job  over  there 
for  three  or  four  weeks  if  you  want  it.  And  I  believe 
you  would  like  it.  You  will  see  things  over  there  that 
we  never  saw  in  Iowa.  You  can  get  to  know  some- 
thing about  01'  Kaintuck.  All  the  peaches  you  can 
eat,  pretty  good  board,  pretty  decent  place  to  sleep, 
and  not  very  hard  work." 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  131 

"I  believe  I  would  like  it,"  said  Jim.  "Those 
darkies  over  there  " — 

"Oh,  they  eat  by  themselves  and  have  their  own 
sleeping  quarters,  of  course." 

"I  don't  mean  that.  Are  there  any  white  darkies 
among  them?  " 

"Once  in  a  while  you  see  one  who  is  so  white  that 
you  would  not  know  from  his  appearance  that  there 
was  a  drop  of  negro  blood  in  him — straight  hair,  thin 
lips,  everything." 

"How,  then,  do  people  who  are  strangers  to  them 
know  them  to  be  negroes?" 

"Where  their  antecedents  are  unknown  many  of 
them  are  no  doubt  taken  all  their  lives  for  white  men." 

"  I  suppose,  then,  they  sometimes  marry  whites,  and 
no  one  ever  knows  the  difference,"  said  Jim. 

"  Yes,  but  the  thing  might  come  out  in  the  children. 
You  know,  they  say  a  child  sometimes  bears  no  re- 
semblance to  either  of  its  parents,  but  takes  after 
some  one  farther  back  the  family  line.  Now,  suppose 
you  married  a  girl  with  negro  blood  in  her — so  little 
that  no  one  could  see  it — and  a  child  came  along  that 
took  after  its  dusky  grandfather — how  would  you  feel?  " 
Jim's  face  flushed. 

"Anyone  would  feel  queer  I  should  think,"  he  replied. 

"And  in  another  case  the  child  might  take  after  the 
white  grandfather  and  be  all  right.  That  reminds  me 
of  what  one  of  the  men  over  there  was  telling  us.  He 
was  sure  that  negro  parents  were  always  pleased  if 
their  children  were  not  so  dark  as  themselves,  and  that, 


132  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

the  whiter  the  children  were,  the  better  they  liked  it. 
To  prove  this  he  described  a  Sunday  school  Christmas 
entertainment  at  a  colored  Baptist  church  up  in  Cin- 
cinnati or  Covington.  They  had  a  scene  representing 
the  Nativity.  They  had  a  stable  with  a  big,  tin  star 
glittering  above  it,  and  a  floor  covered  with  straw. 
They  had  a  colored  woman  for  the  Virgin  Mary,  but 
the  part  of  the  infant  Jesus  was  taken  by  a  snow-white 
flaxen-haired  doll  which  had  been  bought  at  a  store. 
And  he  said  every  darkey  there  thought  it  was  just 
fine." 

"Their  color  has  been  a  badge  of  servitude  and  dis- 
grace so  long  that  it  is  not  surprising  they  should  like 
to  get  rid  of  some  of  it,"  said  Jim. 

"I  don't  know  whether  that  is  it  exactly,"  responded 
his  brother.  "A  man  might  marry  an  Indian  or  a 
Chinese  or  a  woman  of  any  other  race  under  the  sun, 
and  no  one  think  that  he  had  unpardonably  disgraced 
himself,  but  as  to  the  Ethiopian  it  is  different.  There 
is  something  repugnant  in  this  race  not  present  in  the 
others.  Slavery  does  not  account  for  it  all.  It  is  a 
natural  antipathy." 

"If  you  fell  in  love  with  a  girl  who  was  fairer  and 
prettier  than  any  other  girl  you  ever  saw,  and  you 
became  engaged  to  her,  and  then  found  out  that  she 
had  a  negro  taint,  what  would  you  do?"  asked  Jim. 

"I  would  break  the  engagement,  not  only  for  the 
fact  itself,  but  because  she  would  have  been  in  honor 
bound  to  reveal  it  to  me.  If  she  had  not  known  it 
herself,  which  is  most  unlikely,  and  there  had  been  no 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  133 

concealment,  and  I  were  dead  in  love  with  her,  I  sup- 
pose my  heart  and  my  head  would  have  to  fight  it  out. 
But  if  there  is  negro  blood  hi  a  person  it  is  sure  to 
appear  somehow,  or  some  one  is  sure  to  know,  and,  if 
sure  to  know,  sure  to  tell.  Such  a  thing  as  that  could 
never  be  more  of  a  secret  than  an  open  secret." 

"That's  exactly  what  I  think,"  said  Jim  with  an 
alacrity  and  emphasis  that  made  Fred  turn  and  look 
at  him.  Jim  was  alarmed  lest  the  manner  of  his 
utterance  had  betrayed  his  concern,  and  quickly 
reverted  to  his  brother's  suggestion  that  he  take  an 
outing  at  the  peach  farm. 

Fred  returned  to  the  peach  farm  the  next  morning. 


CHAPTER  XI. 
A  BETTER  DAY. 

CONSIDER  and  reconsider  it  as  he  might,  Pressley 
could  not  get  rid  of  the  doubt  which  Gassler's  remark 
and  manner  had  put  in  his  mind.  And  what  hurt  him 
most  was  a  sense  of  unfaithfulness  to  Bertha  in  that  he 
had  found  it  impossible  not  to  give  some  credence  to 
the  first  thing  said  against  her,  and  that,  too,  by  the 
man  whom  she  disliked  most.  Pretty  lover  thus  to  be 
so  quick  to  believe  what  he  should  have  been  the  last 
to  believe!  After  all  his  tendernesses,  his  promises, 
his  assurances,  his  protestations  to  her  he  was  so  ready 
to  desert  her! 

Such  were  the  self-censuring  thoughts  he  had.  But 
he  loved  her,  and  if  he  could  not  keep  himself  assured 
more  than  a  minute  at  a  time  that  Gassier  had  spoken 
falsely — assured  by  recalling  the  closing  part  of  his 
conversation  with  Fred,  assured  by  the  positive 
answer  of  Prof.  Bland,  assured  by  his  own  knowledge 
of  Bertha's  open  and  honest  character — if  he  could 
not  thus  keep  himself  certain,  he  would  resolve,  anyhow, 
to  stand  by  her,  negro  taint  or  anything  else,  and  then 
he  would  break  the  resolution. 

Sometimes  Pressley  thought  he  could  find  out  the 
facts  by  making  discreet  and  apparently  indifferent 
inquiries  of  those  who  must  know  all  about  the  Garrett 

134 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  135 

family.  He  had  ventured  this  with  Prof.  Bland,  but 
not  with  decisive  result,  and  to  deliberately  go  about  it 
further  would  be  to  countenance  fully  the  suspicion 
that  he  hated. 

Sometimes  he  thought  he  would  at  once  sit  down 
and  write  Bertha  all  about  it,  and  add,  of  course,  that 
he  knew  it  was  not  so,  but  would  not  Gassler's  remark, 
or  the  substance  of  it,  be  a  pretty  thing  to  repeat  to 
her!  His  manhoood  revolted  at  the  mere  idea. 

Sometimes  he  determined  that  he  would  go  down 
and  see  Bertha  at  her  home,  where  he  would  have  an 
opportunity  to  satisfy  himself  as  to  her  mother  with 
his  own  eyes,  but  would  he  like  it  that  the  very  first 
time  he  went  to  her  home  he  should  go  as  a  spy? 

The  truth  is  that  young  Pressley's  sense  of  a  lover's 
honor  forbade  him  to  do  anything  which  would  be  an 
admission  that  he  had  any  suspicion  that  Bertha  had 
deceived  him  or  that  he  had  been  deceived  in  her. 
But  he  was  like  a  man  who  stops  his  ears  to  keep  from 
hearing  his  own  words. 

He  decided  that  he  would  overcome  his  doubts 
and  fears  by  will  power  alone,  and  his  thoughts  kept 
coming  and  going  in  a  circle.  A  hundred  times  a  day 
he  would  review  all  the  evidence  and  acquit  Bertha. 
Then  he  would  review  and  be  undecided;  then  review 
again  and  acquit. 

He  was  exasperated  with  himself  because  he  could 
not  consider  Prof.  Bland's  answer  as  a  competent  and 
positive  settlement  of  the  question  that  had  been 
forced  into  his  mind,  but  as  he  revolved  it  and  revolved 


136  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

it  he  found  himself  always  returned  to  the  conviction 
that  the  professor  had  left  something  unsaid,  and  he 
conceived  that  the  professor,  honest  as  to  everything 
else,  might,  through  friendship  for  the  Garrett  family, 
practice  some  deception  thought  to  be  to  its  advantage. 

Before  the  end  of  the  first  week  at  home  he  got  a 
letter  from  Bertha,  saying  she  would  be  up  to  Madison 
to  do  some  shopping  the  next  day,  and  asking  him  to 
meet  her  at  a  certain  drug  store,  which  he  did. 

Now  he  had  intended  to  tell  her  his  trouble,  but 
from  the  moment  he  saw  her  it  was  impossible  for  him 
to  speak  of  it  or  scarcely  to  think  of  it.  It  is  true  that 
he  searched  her  face  for  any  sign  of  coquetry  or  cun- 
ning that  the  absence  of  any  suspicion  heretofore  might 
have  caused  him  to  overlook,  but  her  countenance  was 
as  guileless  as  an  angel's. 

He  scrutinized  her  complexion  for  any  telltale 
shadow,  but  it  was  as  clear  and  soft  as  the  face  of  a  lily. 

He  scanned  her  head  for  even  one  eccentric  hair, 
but  all  was  fineness  and  undulation. 

And  here  she  was,  as  gentle,  as  vivacious,  and  in 
every  way  as  lovely  as  ever — radiant  to  see  him. 
Shame  on  him,  he  thought,  that  in  his  mind  he  had 
allowed  a  doubt  to  dim  the  beauty  of  this  vision! 

And  so  in  her  blessed  presence  he  was  happy  again 
and  as  the  weight  that  had  depressed  his  spirits  was 
removed  they  arose  by  reaction  to  an  unwonted 
buoyancy,  the  like  of  which  even  Bertha  had  never 
before  observed. 

"Jim,  I  don't  think  you  studied  real,  real  hard 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  137 

during  the  last  two  months  of  school,"  she  said  play- 
fully, "but  already,  I  think,  your  vacation  has  done 
you  good." 

"This  is  the  best  day  and  the  best  moment  of  it," 
he  replied,  and  was  instantly  rewarded  for  this  gallant 
telling  of  the  truth  by  seeing  something  in  Bertha's 
eyes  that  came  there  for  him  alone. 

In  Bertha's  company  was  a  neighbor's  little 
girl,  to  whom  a  partnership  in  the  day,  with  its  long 
ride  and  the  rare  sights  of  the  town,  had  been  offered 
as  a  treat.  It  was  being  enjoyed  with  an  excitement 
that  the  timid  little  creature  did  her  best  every  moment 
to  repress  lest  she  should  break  the  bounds  of  decorum, 
a  matter  concerning  which  her  mother  had  strictly 
charged  her. 

Had  this  little  girl  not  been  along  Jim  might  have 
proposed  to  go  with  Bertha  on  her  shopping  round,  but 
he  felt  that  three  in  the  party  would  be  a  crowd.  It 
was  arranged,  however,  that  they  should  meet  at  a 
restaurant  and  take  lunch  together,  and  that  in  the 
afternoon,  when  Bertha  was  ready  to  start  for  home, 
Jim  should  act  as  coachman  while  she  called  at  the 
stores  for  her  bundles. 

At  the  restaurant  Bertha  and  Jim  had  an  opportunity 
to  agree,  in  dear  and  cautious  undertones,  that  he 
should  take  a  horseback  ride  down  to  her  home  the 
following  Monday.  The  little  girl,  of  course,  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  the  negotiation  of  this  fond  contract, 
but  Jim  was  in  an  overflowing  mood,  and,  since  she 
was  close  at  hand,  his  thank-offering  went  to  her — 


138  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

a  bag  of  candy  bought  on  the  spot,  and  of  a  size  such 
as  the  child  had  never  dreamed  about. 

When,  later,  the  bundles  had  all  been  collected, 
Jim  remained  in  the  buggy  until  the  very  last  house 
that  could  make  any  pretense  to  be  hanging  to  the 
skirts  of  the  city  had  been  passed.  Had  Bertha 
driven  up  alone  that  day,  it  is  ten  to  one  that  now  the 
horse  would  have  been  forced  to  make  so  many  cir- 
cumvolutions before  getting  away  from  the  vicinity  of 
the  town  and  turned  into  the  direct  way  homeward 
that,  had  he  any  knowledge  of  frail  human  nature, 
he  would  have  suspected  his  mistress  had  given  over 
the  reins  to  some  tipsy  stranger. 

Adieux  were  said  perforce,  at  a  length  curtailed  and 
with  a  tenderness  restrained.  But  as  Pressley  walked 
toward  town  he  had  never  looked  forward  with  so  lively 
a  pleasure  to  a  next  meeting  with  Bertha. 

"If  there  were  any  truth  in  that,"  he  mused,  reas- 
suring assurance,  "would  she  have  been  so  free  about 
inviting  me  to  her  home?  She  is  as  frank  as  the  open 
sky.  She  is  as  free  from  deception  as  a  flower." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

LED  BY  BENIGNANT  GIANTS. 

No  knight  ever  rode  forth  better  satisfied  with  the 
horse  under  him,  the  journey  before  him  or  the  pros- 
pect at  the  journey's  end  than  Jim  Pressley  the 
following  Monday  morning  when  he  started  out  to 
fulfill  the  appointment  made  with  Bertha. 

No  aborigine,  no  hunter,  no  emigrant,  no  pioneer 
had  ever  looked  on  the  Ohio  river  with  more  delight 
or  followed  it  for  a  foot  of  its  course — for  his  road  lay 
along  the  stream — more  thankfully.  He  had  received 
minute  directions  as  to  the  way,  and  understood  them 
perfectly  well,  but  he  preferred  to  feel  that  he  was 
totally  ignorant  concerning  the  matter  and  that  the 
beautiful  river,  about  which  he  had  often  heard  Bertha 
speak  and  which  he  knew  she  loved,  was  his  guide  as 
he  now  went  to  her. 

He  chose  to  fancy  that  the  stream  was  her  old  and 
confidential  companion  whose  sole  purpose  in  flowing 
was  to  please  her  and  which  was  gladly  doing  her 
bidding  today  in  escorting  him  to  her.  Blessed  river 
to  be  loved  by  her  and  to  have  been  established  since 
the  continent  was  built  only  to  wind  by  her  home! 
Pressley  saw  a  dainty  nymph  on  every  little  wave, 
Bmilingly  directing  him  onward. 

As  for  the  huge  and  rugged  bluffs  that  silently  tow- 
139 


140  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

ered  above  him  on  his  right  hand,  Pressley  thought  he 
had  never  seen  objects  so  large  that  were  at  the  same 
time  so  gentle.  They  had  to  his  eyes  the  air  of  kindly 
giants,  the  Titanic  body  guard  of  the  river,  and  all  of 
them  the  out-watch,  loyal  to  his  lady,  of  those  en- 
chanted precincts  whither  he  was  proceeding. 

So  he  rode  along,  proud  of  this  august  companionship 
and  honored  above  any  prince  by  this  rare  and  noble 
array  sent  forth  to  bid  him  welcome. 

When  Bertha  arose  that  morning  she  found,  as  usual 
on  Monday  mornings,  Old  Maggie  and  Mrs.  Garrett  in 
the  summer  kitchen  quite  surrounded  with  suds, 
starch  and  bluing  water  and  the  weekly  recurring 
material  to  which  these  things  are  applied.  A  house- 
hold activity  was  in  progress  in  which  Bertha  had 
scarcely  ever  failed  in  late  years  to  take  a  part,  having 
a  pride  in  the  appearance  of  certain  ornamental  por- 
tions of  apparel,  which  could  be  gratified  only  through 
the  deftness  of  her  own  manipulation  in  doing  them  up. 
But  on  this  occasion  it  was  soon  apparent  that  her  sole 
interest  in  the  task  was  that  it  should  be  accomplished 
and  out  of  the  way  with  the  least  possible  delay. 

"Because,  mamma,"  she  said,  "when  I  was  in 
Madison  Saturday  I  saw  Jim  Pressley,  and  he  said  he 
was  going  out  for  a  long  horseback  ride  today  and  might 
be  down  this  way  and  make  a  call.  I  wouldn't  want 
to  introduce  him  to  you  over  a  wash  tub.  And  he  may 
be  here  for  dinner,  too." 

"Why,  Bertha!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Garrett,  "and  you 
waitin'  till  now  to  tell  us  about  it"? 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  141 

"And  what  things  is  gettin'  into  yo'  head?"  she 
added  with  an  air  of  grave  suspicion.  "Why  should 
Jim  Pressley  or  Jim  Anybody  come  down  all  this  way 
to  see  you?  I  reckon  he's  not  coming  without  an 
invitation?  And  so  soon  after  school's  out?  And  you 
nothin'  but  a  young  girl?  " 

"Well,  mamma,  he's  only  one  of  the  boys  up  there 
and  a  nice  fellow,  and  if  he  told  me  he  was  going  horse- 
back riding,  what  could  I  do  but  ask  him  to  come  down 
and  see  me?  Anyway,  he's  coming,  mamma,  and  we 
must  not  have  things  looking  too  bad." 

"Bertha!"  Mrs.  Garrett  turned  her  head  slightly  to 
one  side  and  looked  at  the  girl  from  over  her  spectacles, 
speaking  as  a  parent  sometimes  does  to  a  little  child 
when  it  is  thought  that  a  show  of  protest  must  be  made. 

Bertha  understood  this  deportment  well,  but,  fearing 
she  had  already  made  a  blunder  in  her  diplomacy,  she 
would  trust  herself  to  make  no  fuller  explanation  or 
argument  and  simply  kept  smiling,  not  without  a  cer- 
tain embarrassment  that  is  delightful  to  behold, 
whenever  occasion  creates  it,  in  maidens  of  her  age. 

"Since  you  are  so  wonderfully  pleased,"  said  Mrs. 
Garrett,  "the  rest  of  us  ought  not  to  cry  over  it." 
And  Bertha  then  knew  that,  blunder  or  no  blunder, 
there  would  be  perfect  agreement  in  the  household 
that  the  visitor  should  be  most  decently  received. 

"Well,  we'll  not  be  all  day  about  this,"  said  Mrs. 
Garrett,  looking  over  to  where  Old  Maggie  was  working 
a  wringer.  And  then  Bertha,  by  a  feminine  instinct 
impelled,  went  to  see  just  what  was  the  amplitude  of 


142  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

^ 

delicate  bounty  in  the  larder,  which  is  probably  always 
to  the  true  housekeeper,  actual  or  prospective,  an 
armory  containing  a  sort  of  ammunition  which,  though 
non-metallic,  has  been  known  a  hundred  thousand 
times  to  be  mightily  effective. 

"Mamma,  you'll  make  a  cake  and  a  blackberry 
pie,  won't  you?"  asked  Bertha  as  she  returned,  "and 
I'll  tidy  up  the  rooms  a  bit." 

"  Me  make  a  cake  and  pie?  "  was  the  answer.  "  Isn't 
it  yo'  cakes  and  pies  that  ought  to  be  on  the  table 
today? — And  have  you  told  yo'  father  about  it?" 

"About  what?"  asked  the  girl,  startled  by  the  sus- 
picion that  the  shrewd  woman  had  conjectured  the 
whole  situation  and  regarded  it  as  admitted. 

"About  what?     About  yo'  company." 

Even  this  explanation  seemed  somewhat  equivocal 
to  Bertha,  but  she  realized  that  people  with  secrets 
can  be  over-anxious  about  what  knowledge  their 
friends  possess,  and  she  refrained  from  showing 
further  doubt  by  asking  further  questions.  She  only 
said:  "No,  but  I'll  tell  him." 

From  the  number  of  times  Bertha  appeared  on  the 
small  front  porch  thereafter  and  cracked  her  cloth  in 
the  air  one  would  have  supposed  that  she  was  dusting 
out  a  grist  mill,  but  it  would  have  been  readily  observed 
that  every  time  she  came  out  she  took  a  careful  look 
down  the  hill  toward  the  river,  and  then  it  would  have 
been  understood  that  some  eager  expectation  was 
distracting  her. 

Abner   Garrett,    alter   being   in   the   fields    awhile, 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  143 

watching  the  men  get  well  started  at  the  day's  work, 
returned  and  for  some  time  walked  slowly  to  and  fro 
in  the  shade  of  the  long  west  porch.  At  length  he 
intercepted  Bertha  as  she  was  returning  from  one  of 
her  look-outs  and  said : 

"Dusting,  dusting  all  this  while?  Why,  everything 
is  neat  enough.  Come,  sit  out  in  front  and  tell  me  all 
about  your  year  at  school." 

"  Very  well,  papa,"  she  replied.  "And  do  you  know 
the  best  part  of  the  school  is  coming  down  here  today?  " 

"Do  I  know?  This  is  the  first  I  have  heard  of  it. 
A  company  of  your  friends  coming  down?  " 

"No,  not  a  company.     Only  one  person." 

Now,  President  Boyce  had  thought  it  his  duty  on 
one  or  two  occasions  to  tell  Mr.  Garrett  about  the 
attentions  Bertha  was  receiving  from  young  Pressley, 
and  he  expressed  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  two  young 
people  might  be  making,  or  fancying  they  were,  plans 
of  a  far-reaching  scope. 

This  information  and  the  freedom  with  which 
Bertha  had  just  spoken  made  Mr.  Garrett  at  once  think 
of  Pressley,  but,  if  his  guess  were  right,  he  was  deter- 
mined to  embarrass  Bertha  with  a  presumption,  so  he 
asked : 

"And  who  may  she  be?" 

"Oh,  it's  not  a  girl.     It's  Jim  Pressley." 

Mr.  Garrett  seated  himself  on  a  rustic  bench  and 
drew  Bertha  down  beside  him  with  his  arm  around  her. 

"And  why,"  he  asked,  "do  you  call  Jim  Pressley  the 
best  part  of  the  school?" 


144  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

The  old  man's  hand  trembled  as  it  lay  lightly  on  the 
girl's  shoulder,  but  she  was  herself  fluttering  with  ex- 
citement and  did  not  notice  it. 

"  Oh,  I  like  Jim  better  than  any  of  the  other  students 
up  there,"  she  answered.  And,  in  spite  of  the  resolution 
that  she  and  Jim  had  agreed  on,  she  was  beginning  to 
feel  the  bubbling  up  of  that  abundance  of  the  heart 
out  of  which  the  mouth  speaketh,  and  the  more  easily 
did  she  fail  to  keep  guard  on  her  lips  in  this  matter  of 
supreme  interest  to  herself,  because  her  mind  had 
always  been  open  to  Mr.  Garrett.  She  forthwith  added : 

"I  like  him  better  than  any  other  young  man  I 
ever  met." 

"  Do  you  think  you  like  him  better  than  any  young 
man  you  might  ever  meet?" 

"Yes." 

"  Then  you  are  in  love  with  him,  darling?  " 

"Yes — and  isn't  it  all  right,  papa?"  cried  Bertha, 
furnishing,  as  she  spoke,  some  such  anomaly  as  would 
be  presented  by  the  spectacle  of  an  angel  in  a  con- 
fessional. 

"We  must  trust  so.  But  how  far  my  little  girl  has 
ventured  all  by  herself!  Was  she  not  afraid?  And 
so  soon? " 

"Afraid?  Why,  no,  papa.  I  could  not  be,  because 
I  knew  him  and  could  not  help  liking  him  and  trusting 
him.  Everybody  likes  him.  Besides,  we  have  so  long 
to  wait  that  our  love  will  be  tested  by  time." 

"  Is  there,  then,  some  doubt  or  reservation? " 

"Not  on  the  part  of  ourselves,  but  it  seems  to  me 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  145 

that  the  certainty  of  a  long  engagement  ought  to  excuse 
us  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  may  learn  or  suspect  what 
our  relation  is  and  who  may  be  disposed  to  think  we 
were  too  young  to  enter  into  it." 

"Perhaps  the  world  has  some  such  notion  as  that, 
but  really,  Bertha,  at  Cupid's  court  no  candidates  for 
matrimony  are  ever  received  on  probation,  yet  I  have 
no  doubt  you  carefully  considered  what  you  were 
doing.  Have  you  spoken  to  your  mother?  " 

"  No,  but  when  I  told  her  Jim  was  coming  today  I 
fear  she  suspected  the  truth." 

"  Leave  it  to  me  to  tell  her,  then.  Do  any  of  your 
friends  or  Pressley's  know  it?" 

"No.  We  resolved  we  would  tell  no  one  for  two 
or  three  years,  but  I  couldn't  keep  it  a  secret  from 
you." 

"Two  or  three  years  will  be  soon  enough  for  other 
people  to  know." 

Mr.  Garrett  continued  after  a  short  pause:  "I  have 
heard  Mr.  Boyce  speak  about  Pressley,  and  he  praises 
him  very  highly.  I  understand,  too,  that  his  father  is 
a  most  respectable  man,  and  the  whole  family  one  of 
good  standing.  I  hope  the  young  man  will  like  your 
family." 

He  said  the  last  words  with  so  much  evident  concern 
and  apprehension  that  the  girl  felt  touched  at  what 
she  regarded  as  her  own  father's  deprecation  of  himself 
in  the  contemplation  of  her  lover,  and,  with  her  arms 
around  his  neck,  she  was  swift  to  assure  him  that  she 
had  told  Jim  all  about  her  people  and  that  he  had  said 


146  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

to  her  he  was  sure  he  would  like  them  all,  as  indeed  he 
would  have  to  do  to  be  her  lover  at  all. 

"  But  suppose  he  did  not  after  he  became  acquainted 
with  us?"  asked  Mr.  Garrett. 

"  Oh,  but  papa,  he  will/'  Bertha  replied  in  a  manner 
almost  impatiently  positive,  never  doubting  the  pleni- 
tude of  her  authority  to  speak  for  Jim  and  make 
promises  for  him  in  such  a  matter  as  this. 

"And  papa,"  she  continued  as  if  indeed  she  had 
fully  settled  the  question,  "I  have  another  secret  to 
tell  you." 

"What  is  that?" 

"You  remember  'Brother  Charlie'  rode  in  the 
carriage  with  me  the  evening  we  went  down  to  the 
river  to  see  Walter  and  Ida  off.  Well,  coming  home, 
he  said  he  wished  that  I  would  be  his  wife." 

"What!  So  many  all  at  once  trying  to  steal  my 
daughter  away  from  me!"  said  Mr.  Garrett,  seriously 
enough  at  heart,  but  with  an  outward  levity  that  at 
least  half  disguised  his  feeling. 

"And  you  like  Mr.  Pressley  better  than  'Brother 
Charlie'?"  he  asked,  affecting  the  air  of  some  gossipy 
girl  of  Bertha's  own  age. 

"Of  course  I  do,"  Bertha  answered,  and,  though  of 
course  she  did,  she  spoke  timidly  and  with  not  a  little 
confusion,  for  this  talking  about  her  love  with  any 
other  than  the  one  other  in  whose  heart  half  the  precious 
treasure  lay  was  strange  to  her  and  the  comparison 
suggested  gave  her  a  not  well-defined  but  uneasy 
feeling  that  a  thief  was  about. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  147 

"Sometimes  one's  opinion  of  another  is  affected  by 
an  acquaintance  with  that  other's  family  and  relatives," 
said  Mr.  Garrett.  " '  Brother  Charlie'  "— 

Just  then  was  heard  a  dismaying  confusion  of  noises 
and  exclamations  at  the  summer  kitchen,  and  in  ah 
instant  Mrs.  Garrett  and  Old  Maggie  came  running 
around  the  corner  of  the  house,  looking  backward  with 
faces  full  of  fear. 

"Shep's  gone  mad!"  cried  Mrs.  Garrett. 

Taking  up  a  pitchfork,  with  which  early  that  morning 
he  had  been  loosening  the  soil  in  some  flower  beds, 
Mr.  Garrett  led  the  way  cautiously  to  the  rear,  followed 
at  a  little  distance  by  the  three  women  who  were  meas- 
urably reassured  by  the  formidable  character  of  the 
weapon  which  had  been  so  convenient  to  Mr.  Garrett's 
hand,  though  the  kinetoscope  of  the  imagination  was 
revealing  to  their  minds  the  most  horrible  sort  of 
hydrophobic  pictures. 

Old  Maggie,  trembling  violently,  took  hold  of  Bertha's 
arm,  and  walked  rather  in  front  of  her  than  by  her  side, 
as  if  to  protect  her. 

The  beloved  dog  of  the  household  was  rolling  over 
and  over  on  the  familiar  ground,  and  making  the 
domestic  premises  a  scene  of  awful  dread  by  his  foaming 
at  the  mouth,  his  fiery  staring,  his  snarling  at  nothing, 
his  snapping  at  the  air.  Garrett  and  Bertha  spoke  to 
him  in  turn,  timidly  and  pleadingly.  And  then  all 
spoke  to  him  together,  but  his  insanity  was  not  in  the 
least  beguiled  or  intermitted  and  he  seemed  all  at  once 
to  have  completely  put  off  his  docility  and  gentleness 


148  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

for  the  ferocity  of  the  fiercest  brute  in  the  animal  king- 
dom save  that  he  showed  no  inclination  to  make  a 
direct  attack. 

Still  keeping  carefully  on  guard  with  the  fork,  Garrett 
got  a  basin  of  water  and  put  it  on  the  ground  close  to 
Shep's  nose.  The  dog  turned  away  from  it  apparently 
in  greater  delirium  than  before. 

"  Sho'  he's  mad,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Garrett,  "  he  won't 
take  watah." 

"Oh,  it's  probably  just  a  hot  weather  fit — lots  of 
dogs  have  them,"  said  Mr.  Garrett  quietly,  but  with  a 
tremor  in  his  voice  that  a  louder  tone  might  have  slurred 
over  and  made  unnoticeable.  He  coaxed  and  pleaded 
with  the  dog  to  return  to  his  senses,  but  in  vain. 

"  Oh,  he's  mad  sho,"  repeated  Mrs.  Garrett.  "  He'll 
have  to  be  killed."  And  then,  turning  to  Bertha,  she 
exclaimed  with  a  gravity  quite  overwhelming  in  the 
excitement  of  the  moment:  "Oh,  I  wish  Mr.  Pressley 
wa'n't  comin'  today." 

Bertha  took  the  words  to  mean  that  a  calamity  was 
fallen  on  the  house  which  had  utterly  demoralized  it 
and  put  it  in  mourning.  Already  she  had  struggled 
hard  to  control  herself,  and  now,  alarmed  as  she  was 
by  the  supposed  danger  of  horrible  injury  to  herself 
or  the  others,  suffering  out  of  sympathy  for  her  pet  in 
his  agony,  and  keenly  stricken  by  the  suggestion  of  his 
fate,  this  intimation  that  the  day  had  been  spoiled  for 
the  reception  of  her  lover  proved  too  much  for  her  and 
she  burst  into  tears. 

Mr.  Garrett  alone  had  understood  the  full  meaning 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  149 

of  his  wife's  remark.  He  turned  around  and  said, 
shaking  his  head  and  with  his  eyes  closely  upon  her: 
"This  will  make  no  difference." 

Nevertheless  he  was  unnerved  by  what  she  had  said. 
He  dropped  the  fork,  and  almost  as  much  overcome  as 
Bertha,  went  to  her  side.  She  was  sobbing  like  a  child, 
supported  by  Old  Maggie  who  had  thrown  her  arms 
around  her  and  was  cooing  to  her  the  old,  soft  and  inar- 
ticulate expressions  which  she  had  often  found  potent 
to  soothe  the  sorrows  of  the  girl's  earliest  years.  It  had 
been  long  since  the  poor  old  servant  held  Bertha  so, 
and  if  an  observer  had  been  present,  not  under  the 
excitement  by  which  the  others  were  distracted,  he 
would  have  noted  it  as  singular  that,  among  the  many 
emotions  written  on  the  woman's  face,  an  expression  of 
satisfaction  was  predominant,  and  mingled  with  it, 
if  not  superseding  it,  was  as  singular  an  air  of  sub- 
missiveness  when  Garrett  laid  his  hand  tenderly  on 
Bertha's  shoulder. 

He  had  scarcely  done  this,  however,  when  he  saw  a 
young  man  on  horseback  drawing  up  at  the  front  gate. 
The  rider  had  noticed  as  he  rode  up  that  the  family 
was  excited  by  some  unusual  incident  and  he  had  also 
observed  that  Bertha  was  in  trouble,  and  so  it  was  with 
a  solemn  concern  that,  after  dismounting,  he  stood  at 
his  horse's  head  and  waited  while  she  crossed  the  long 
lawn. 

Try  as  hard  as  she  might,  Bertha  could  not  wholly 
quiet  the  agitation  that  had  so  recently  overcome  her, 
nor  were  the  tears  quite  banished  from  her  eyes. 


150  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Pressley  had  determined  to  be  very  discreet  in 
saluting  her,  but  what  control  has  gallantry  ever  had 
over  itself  in  the  presence  of  beauty  in  distress?  He 
straightway  was  rilled  with  compassion  for  her,  and, 
heedless  of  a  scrutiny  that  was  parental  and  therefore 
the  most  trying  a  lover  ever  has  to  undergo,  he  put  his 
arms  around  her  and  kissed  her  with  reckless  and 
passionate  tenderness. 

Simultaneously  Shep  took  to  rolling  again,  and  cast 
himself  through  an  open  window  into  the  cellar. 

Garrett  advanced  with  the  intention  of  bidding 
Pressley  welcome  and  then  taking  his  horse  to  the 
barn,  but  he  had  gone  only  a  few  steps  when  he  saw 
that  Bertha  and  Jim  were  already  on  the  way  to  the 
barn  with  the  horse,  so  he  turned  back  and  followed 
his  wife  and  Old  Maggie  into  the  house  at  a  rear  door. 
He  descended  to  the  cellar  to  make  sure  that  the  door 
was  securely  closed.  He  found  it  shut.  He  opened 
it  and  cautiously  peeped  in  to  see  if  any  change  had 
come  over  Shep.  The  dog  was  quiet  but  made  no  sign 
when  called.  Mr.  Garrett  carefully  reclosed  the  door 
and  came  up  stairs. 

Bertha  had  scarcely  completed  her  description  of  the 
excitement  and  terror  of  the  morning  when  young 
Pressley  felt  more  than  ever  like  a  knight,  and  one,  too, 
who  had  arrived  just  in  time  to  save  his  lady  from  an 
awful  fate.  He  was  become  a  St.  George  with  the 
satisfaction  and  the  pride  of  a  hero  who  had  slain  a 
dragon;  and  as  he  walked  along  he  thrust  his  riding 
whip  out  before  him  as  if  it  had  been  a  spear,  and 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  151 

patted  his  horse  on  the  neck  as  the  charger  that  had 
borne  him  hi  the  perilous  encounter.  It  was  a  horse 
hired  from  a  livery  stable,  but  Jim  resolved  that  when 
he  returned  home  he  would  buy  it  so  that  he  might 
always  own  and  honor  it. 

But  Jim's  fancy  took  even  a  more  extravagant  flight 
when,  after  his  horse  had  been  stalled,  Bertha  showed 
him  her  riding  pony.  Most  blessed  of  brutes  ever 
created!  Here  indeed  was  a  thoroughly  tamed  and 
domesticated  Pegasus,  finding  Mr.  Garrett's  barn  a 
finer  home  than  the  clouds,  and  the  highways  of  Hoosier 
dirt  freer  than  the  infinite  avenues  of  the  sky,  and 
content  to  be  even  shorn  of  his  wings  so  long  as  Bertha 
was  his  mistress. 

Jim  did  not  say  quite  all  this,  but  he  felt  it  all  and 
much  more  to  the  like  effect  though  perhaps  not  so 
expressible. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

WHOSE  GUEST? 

BARNS  have  a  romance  for  childhood,  but  are  so 
barren  of  any  suggestion  of  bowers  or  balconies  that 
they  have  never  been  put  forward  in  poetry  or  prose 
as  places  convenient  or  appropriate  for  the  meetings 
of  lovers. 

Yet  Bertha  may  be  pardoned  if  she  detained  Jim 
where  they  were  until  those  at  the  house  had  had  time 
to  change  the  stage,  arrange  their  costumes  and  com- 
pose their  minds  for  a  more  tranquil  scene  than  that 
which  had  just  been  enacted — a  transformation  which 
she  well  knew  was  in  active  progress. 

Jim  was  soon  seeing  a  beauty  in  bridles  that  he  had 
never  dreamed  of  before,  and  side-saddles  appeared  to 
him  the  most  ingenious  and  elegant  of  all  things 
upholstered.  He  could  have  rubbed  the  nose  and 
patted  the  neck  of  the  riding  pony  all  the  rest  of  the 
day  as  a  choice  privilege. 

But  Bertha  found  a  balcony. 

"Gome  up  to  the  haymow,"  said  she.  "I  will  go 
in  and  sit  down  where  I  have  sat  a  thousand  times, 
and  you  must  enter,  just  as  I  often  wished,  when  I  was 
little,  a  knight  might  do,  and  fall  in  love  with  me,  a 
peasant  girl,  there,  and  at  once  arrange  with  my  parents 
to  take  me  off  to  his  splendid  castle." 

152 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  153 

And  so  the  two  played  this  fascinating  game.  It 
would  have  made  silly  sport  if  any  others  had  joined. 
They  say  the  wisest  men  have  intimate  friends  before 
whom  they  are  not  afraid  to  play  the  fool  as  much  as 
they  like.  If  lovers  are  not  always  wise  they  never  fail 
to  arrogate  wisdom  unto  themselves,  and  they  play  the 
fool,  one  to  another,  blessed  beings,  at  the  same  time. 

But  the  game,  as  has  been  intimated,  was  an  art- 
fully supplied  performance  on  Bertha's  part,  and, 
guessing  well  the  time  it  would  take  for  the  household 
to  rehabilitate  itself,  she  at  length  conducted  Jim  to 
the  portals  of  the  family  mansion. 

They  walked  slowly  along  the  broad  and  well-beaten 
path  across  the  big  lot.  Jim  was  continually  looking 
near  and  far  around  in  survey  of  the  prospect  pre- 
sented, and  was  delighted  to  convey  to  Bertha  the 
pleasing  impression  of  rural  comfort  and  luxury  that 
the  sight  suggested. 

As  they  approached  the  house  Bertha  observed  with 
the  highest  satisfaction  that  perfect  order  was  on 
guard  beneath  the  roof  and  felt  assured  that  the 
traditional  family  hospitality  was  prepared  for  a  most 
decorous  and  gracious  act  of  dispensation. 

"This  is  where  we  were  sitting  when  the  robbers 
came,"  said  Bertha  as  they  reached  the  steps  of  the 
west  porch. 

Mr.  Garrett  was  just  coming  out,  and  heard  the  words 
as  he  passed  through  the  doorway. 

"And  here  comes  a  robber  worse  than  they,"  thought 
he  with  grave  humor  and  resignation. 


154  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

But  there  was  no  sign  in  his  face  of  such  a  sentiment 
when,  the  next  instant,  he  extended  his  greetings  to 
the  young  man.  He  did  not  wait  for  the  ceremony 
of  introduction. 

"You  have  already  been  introduced,  Mr.  Pressley, 
and  who  could  Bertha's  father  be  but  myself?  "  said  he, 
giving  his  hand.  "It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  bid 
welcome  to  one  of  Bertha's  friends." 

"And  anyone  would  feel  complimented  at  being 
cordially  received  for  her  sake,"  said  Jim. 

"I  hope  you  enjoyed  your  ride,"  said  Mr.  Garrett. 

"Very  much.  These  thick  woods  on  every  side,  and 
the  rocks,  are  quite  new  to  me,  and  to  come  to  such  a 
place  as  this  is  like  getting  into  another  part  of  the 
United  States." 

"  But  Shep,  papa?  "  said  Bertha. 

"  Yes,  the  dog?  "  seconded  Jim. 

"Rolled  into  the  cellar,"  said  Mr.  Garrett,  "and  I 
think  he  is  quiet.  He  was  when  I  peeped  in  to  see 
only  a  few  minutes  ago." 

Jim  demanded  to  be  conducted  to  the  cellar  forth- 
with, saying  he  had  always  been  quite  a  hand  with 
dogs  and  that  perhaps  he  could  coax  and  pet  the  animal 
back  into  his  wonted  temper.  So  all  three  went  to  a 
door  that  afforded  an  entrance  into  the  cellar  from  the 
outside,  and  as  Jim  unhesitatingly  descended  the 
stairs,  pushed  the  door  open  and  stepped  partly  in, 
Bertha  was  fearful  of  the  consequences  of  his  rashness 
almost  to  the  point  of  pulling  him  back,  though  she 
admired  the  act  as  the  bravest  she  had  ever  witnessed 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  155 

and  just  such  a  one  as  Jim  might  be  expected  to 
perform. 

The  dog  had  evidently  heard  the  footsteps  on  the 
outside,  for  he  seemed  to  have  awaited  the  opening  of 
the  door  with  eager  expectancy.  In  an  instant  he  was 
at  Jim's  feet,  and  with  the  abundant  and  affecting 
testimony  of  joyful  barks  and  whines  and  f awnings 
upon  even  a  stranger  he  signified  his  release  from  the 
demons  that  had  tormented  him.  Catching  sight  of 
Mr.  Garrett  and  Bertha  at  the  top  of  the  steps,  he  was 
up  the  flight  at  a  bound  to  show  by  every  sign  his 
delight  at  finding  himself  free  from  bewilderment  and 
again  in  normal  relations  with  his  human  familiars. 

Contrary  to  all  calculations,  Jim  was  received  among 
the  wash  tubs,  for  most  of  the  utensils  and  still  a  large 
part  of  the  raw  material  of  the  laundry  were  outside 
the  house  in  the  shade  of  the  kitchen  wing  where  the 
restoration  of  Shep  had  just  been  so  satisfactorily 
demonstrated. 

Old  Maggie  had  resumed  her  work  and  was  an 
intensely  interested  spectator  of  what  was  happening, 
though  silent  and  standing  apart  near  the  door. 

Presently,  to  Bertha's  great  surprise,  Garrett,  when 
the  party  had  come  near  to  the  house  in  play  with 
the  dog,  introduced  Pressley  to  Mrs.  Crowell,  the  seldom 
spoken  name  Old  Maggie  bore.  Mr.  Garrett  had  never 
introduced  strangers  to  Old  Maggie  before,  nor  had 
any  other  member  of  the  family,  and  Bertha  scarcely 
knew  what  to  make  of  the  novelty.  She  was  uncertain 
whether  it  was  due  to  excitement  in  Mr.  Garrett  or 


156  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

was  a  testimony  thus  soon  in  honor  of  her  lover,  the 
blessing  of  whose  acquaintance,  certainly,  should  not 
be  denied  to  the  most  lowly  person  connected  with 
the  family. 

Bertha  had  just  suggested  that  all  go  to  the  front 
porch  when  Mrs.  Garrett  appeared. 

"Mamma,  this  is  Mr.  Pressley,"  said  Bertha,  "and 
see,"  she  added  while  Mrs.  Garrett  and  Jim  exchanged 
salutations,  "  the  first  thing  we  did  was  to  bring  him  to 
the  back  yard  and  we've  kept  him  here  all  this  while." 

"We  set  the  dog  on  him  even,"  said  Garrett.  "But 
no,  we  did  not  bring  him  into  the  back  yard.  The  truth 
is  we  had  all  abdicated  and  it  was  Shep  that  was  to  do 
the  honors  of  the  family.  Therefore  it  was  necessary 
to  knock  at  Shep's  door." 

Then  to  the  front  porch  they  went,  and  sat  down 
there  in  easy  chairs.  Shaded  from  the  sun  of  a  warm 
July  day,  now  well  advanced,  and  after  a  morning 
so  filled  with  unwonted  activity  and  excitement,  it  was 
a  delightfully  refreshing  spot.  Outward  for  eighty  feet 
stretched  the  yard,  carpeted  and  lightly  bowered  with 
the  deepest  verdure  of  grass  and  leaf,  while  the  profuse 
bloom  of  a  variety  of  flowers  furnished  the  livelier  tints 
in  a  most  pleasing  spectacle  of  color.  Farther  on, 
beyond  the  fence  and  the  road,  were  the  forest  trees, 
gradually  sinking  at  first  into  a  dell.  To  the  right, 
over  an  expanse  of  tree-tops  and  the  gleaming  river, 
was  a  view  of  the  Kentucky  hills. 

The  scene,  near  and  far,  always  furnished  theme  of 
remark  to  strangers,  and  Garrett,  to  whom  year  after 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  157 

year  it  remained  originally  fresh,  never  ceased  to  be 
fond  of  discussing  its  beauties  with  anyone  who  was 
in  the  raptures  of  a  first  vision. 

Into  this  subject,  the  view,  the  wooded  and  hilly 
landscapes  as  compared  with  those  he  had  been  used 
to  in  his  native  prairie  state;  the  original  selection  of 
the  site;  the  flowers  and  the  shrubs,  many  of  which  had 
been  imported  from  the  south  and  were  therefore  new 
to  him,  Jim  entered  with  all  the  ardor  it  was  calculated 
to  arouse  in  a  lover  of  the  graceful  in  nature. 

He  addressed  himself  rather  oftener  to  Mrs.  Garrett 
than  to  either  her  husband  or  Bertha,  but  the  latter 
soon  observed  what  she  took  to  be  an  embarrassment 
in  the  manner  of  her  lover  whose  habit  it  had  always 
been  to  conduct  himself  with  the  most  engaging  ease 
in  the  presence  of  company,  whether  familiar  or  strange. 

At  first  the  girl  felt  a  trifle  flattered  by  his  pre- 
occupation, as  a  queen  might  feel  herself  complimented 
by  the  mild  confusion  of  a  lord  admitted  to  her  court. 
That  Jim  should  be  especially  concerned  about  the 
quality  of  his  behavior  on  this  occasion  she  justly  re- 
garded as  bestowing  a  peculiar  distinction  on  his  hosts 
and  as  showing  a  most  satisfactory  solicitude  as  to  the 
opinion  they  might  form  respecting  him. 

Bertha  supposed  it  was  most  natural  that  a  mamma 
and  a  lover  should  be  to  each  other  persons  of  great 
interest,  especially  at  the  first  meeting,  but  it  seemed 
to  her  that  in  this  case  they  were  seeking  to  hasten 
knowledge  in  a  rare  manner  by  an  unusual  intensity  of 
observation. 


158  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

As  the  young  man  conversed  with  the  woman  his 
look  was  direct  and  searching,  as  if  he  were  anxious 
that  not  the  faintest  of  her  outward  features  should 
escape  his  scrutiny,  nor  did  he  appear  to  be  less  at- 
tentive to  the  manner  in  which  she  expressed  herself. 

Bertha  believed  that  it  was  when  the  conversation 
was  particularly  between  Jim  and  Mrs.  Garrett  that 
his  peculiar  behavior  was  most  marked,  and  several 
times  felt  an  impulse  to  withdraw  him  from  the  com- 
pany of  the  older  people.  But  now  Mrs.  Garrett 
excused  herself  by  saying  that  she  must  go  to  see  how 
Old  Maggie  was  coming  on,  by  which  she  really  meant 
that  she  must  superintend  the  preparations  for  dinner, 
and  Bertha,  thinking  that  Jim  might  fare  better  with 
Mr.  Garrett  alone,  the  two  being  left  as  "men  folks" 
exclusively,  soon  found  a  pretext  for  leaving  also. 

In  a  few  minutes  Garrett  and  Jim  were  engaged  in  a 
quiet  conversation  about  the  school  at  College  Hill, 
an  interview  that  proved  to  be  surpassingly  interesting 
to  the  young  man. 

"No  colored  students  there  now,  I  believe?"  said 
Mr.  Garrett. 

"Not  any,"  said  Jim.  "Were  there  ever  many 
there?" 

"Never  many  at  the  same  time  but,  altogether,  a 
considerable  number,  and  what  it  was  to  their  char- 
acters and  lives  no  man  can  estimate.  Mr.  Boyce  has 
done  a  great  work  there.  Standing  on  the  border 
between  Slavery  and  Freedom,  the  school  was  a  beacon 
light  during  the  anti-slavery  struggle.  For  several 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  159 

years  Mr.  Boyce's  work  was  bold.  He  passed  through 
the  fire.  Often  threatened  himself  with  assassination 
and  the  buildings  with  incendiarism,  he  was  just  as 
brave  as  a  soldier  on  the  battlefield. 

"Take  Rev.  Moses  Broyles  of  Indianapolis,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Garrett.  "He  is  a  monument  to  the 
Eleutherian  College,  as  we  used  to  call  the  institution, 
which  was  in  fact  its  official  name.  Broyles  was  a 
slave  near  Paducah,  Kentucky.  He  paid  his  master 
$400  for  his  freedom.  He  found  his  way  to  College 
Hill.  He  had  learned  he  would  be  taught  there. 
Had  never  been  to  school.  Had  the  ambition  of  any 
white  man  in  him.  He  was  there  two  or  three  years. 
Supported  himself  by  his  own  labor.  Had  a  bright 
mind  and  studied  with  avidity,  as  a  famishing  man 
might  eat.  He  became  a  Baptist  minister  and  for 
twenty-five  years  has  been  the  pastor  of  a  colored 
Baptist  church  in  Indianapolis  which  he  has  made 
grow  to  a  membership  of  several  hundred.  Consider 
him  and  his  influence  alone.  Worth  all  the  school 
cost  to  develop  this  one  man — worth  all  the  sacrifice 
made  and  all  the  danger  incurred.  A  singular  thing 
is  that,  while  the  slaveholders  cursed  the  school  as  an 
instrument  of  the  warfare  against  their  'peculiar 
institution/  some  of  them  sent  their  children  to  it  to 
be  educated." 

"  Why,  how's  that?  "  asked  Jim  in  surprise. 

"Because  some  of  them  had  children  that  were  not 
the  children  of  white  mothers,"  replied  Mr.  Garrett. 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Jim. 


160  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"Though  for  all  that  you  sometimes  could  not  tell 
but  that  the  children  were  pure  white." 

Jim  gave  a  little  start.  "And  their  mothers  full- 
blooded  blacks?"  he  asked. 

"Sometimes,  but  the  most  of  these  'white'  children 
were  from  mixed  mothers,  in  whom  the  grossness  of 
the  African  features  was  softened,  frequently  in  a 
beautiful  blend,  by  Caucasian  traits.  At  the  school 
were  Juliet  Wilson,  from  Jackson,  Miss.,  and  Eliza 
Eisher,  both  so  white  that  they  could  pass  for  white. 
Both  married  white  men." 

"Did  the  men  know  they  were  not  whites?"  asked 
Jim,  who  was  listening  to  Mr.  Garrett  with  a  concen- 
tration a  juror  might  exhibit  when  an  important 
witness  was  testifying. 

"Certainly  they  knew  it  but  thought  it  would  make 
no  difference.  Yes,  Juliet  was  her  father's  daughter 
and  slave  property  at  the  same  time,  like  many  another. 
Then,  there  were  Lucy  and  Georgiana  Jefferson, 
grand-daughters,  and  their  father,  a  son,  of  Thomas 
Jefferson." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Jim.  "Of  President  Thomas 
Jefferson?" 

"  Of  President  Thomas  Jefferson.  Oh,  some  of  them 
were  of  illustrious  parentage.  The  son's  name  was 
Thomas  also.  He  was  a  carpenter.  He  paid  $4,200 
for  the  freedom  of  himself  and  family.  They  went  to 
College  Hill.  He  was  fifty  years  old  but  he  entered  the 
school  with  his  daughters.  He  was  almost  white  and 
yet  plainly  showed  his  negro  blood,  but  not  a  sign  of  it 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  161 

in  the  girls.  They  could  pass  for  white.  Did  pass  for 
white  when  they  accompanied  Mrs.  Boyce  on  a  visit 
to  her  kindred  in  Ohio  in  '53.  Lucy  was  smart,  learned 
fast,  and  taught  school  as  a  white  girl  where  her  origin 
was  not  known.  Another  pupil  who  had  a  celebrated 
father  was  Theodore  Johnson,  son  of  Vice-President 
Richard  M.  Johnson.  He  served  in  the  Union  army 
as  a  white  man,  was  a  brave  soldier  and  died  in  a 
hospital." 

"Well,  now,  the  children  of  those  girls  who  were  so 
nearly  white  and  who  married  white  men — what  were 
the  children  like?"  asked  Jim,  taking  care  to  exhibit 
only  a  class-room  interest  in  the  matter.  "Or  do 
you  happen  to  know?  " 

"As  to  these  particular  cases  I  do  not  know,  but  I 
have  known  a  great  many  such  instances.  Sometimes 
the  children  are  as  white  as  any,  and  sometimes  the 
negro  features  show  very  plainly." 

"  I  should  think  that  would  be  hard  on  the  fathers," 
said  Jim. 

"  No  doubt  they  always  hope  that  the  offspring  will 
be  white,  but  they  ought  to  abide  by  the  result.  They 
know  the  chances." 

Then  Mr.  Garrett  went  on:  "The  usefulness  of  the 
school  was  much  impaired  by  the  passage  of  what  was 
called  the  '  black  law/  prohibiting  colored  people  from 
coming  into  the  state,  and  making  it  unlawful  for  any 
person  to  aid  or  harbor  such.  Under  this  law  Mr. 
Boyce  and  the  steward  of  the  boarding  house  were 
arrested,  because  colored  pupils  from  other  states  were 


162  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

received  at  the  school  after  its  passage.  They  were 
bound  over  and  gave  bail,  but  a  defect  was  found  in 
the  indictment  and  the  case  never  came  to  trial." 

In  reply  to  Jim's  successive  questions  Mr.  Garrett 
then  gave  a  full  exposition  of  the  slaveholders'  side  of 
the  slavery  question  and  of  their  feeling  toward  the 
agitation  for  the  abolition  of  slavery — a  chapter  in 
American  history  that  Jim  had  never  had  an  oppor- 
tunity to  learn  so  well. 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  black's  pass?"  asked  Mr. 
Garrett. 

Jim  never  had. 

"Here  is  Juliet  Wilson's.  Mr.  Boyce  was  showing 
it  to  me  not  long  ago,  and  I  asked  him  for  it  as  a 
curiosity.  This  is  what  Juliet  came  north  on."  And 
he  handed  Jim  a  document  bearing  the  following 
writing : 

State  of  Mississippi )  _. 

Hinds  County     j  City  of  Jackson 

To  All  Who  May  See  These  Presents: 

Know  ye  that  we,  John  I.  Guiow  and  Joshua  Green,  executors 
of  the  last  will  and  testament  of  Dr.  Miller  Wilson  deceased, 
and  the  testamentary  guardians  of  his  daughter,  Juliet  S.  Wilson, 
the  bearer  hereof,  hereby  give  her  leave  to  travel  to  Madison, 
Indiana,  and  to  school  near  there.  We  hope  she  will  be  per- 
mitted to  pass  without  interruption  and  be  cared  for  and 
properly  protected  by  all  persons  who  may  desire  to  know  where 
she  is  travelling. 

Given  under  our  hands  and  seals  this  31,  May,  1854. 

John  I.  Guiow     [Seal] 
Joshua  Green       [Seal] 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  163 

State  of  Mississippi) 
Hinds  County      ) 

Before  me,  Richard  Fletcher,  mayor  of  the  city  of  Jackson 
and  ex-officio  justice  of  the  peace  and  notary  public,  in  and  for 
said  county,  personally  appeared  John  I.  Guiow  and  Joshua 
Green,  who  severally  acknowledged  that  they  signed  and  executed 
the  foregoing  instrument  of  writing  on  the  day  of  the  date 
thereof  for  the  purpose  therein  expressed. 

Witness  my  hand  and  seal  of  office  this  31st  day  of  May,  1854. 

Richard  Fletcher,  Mayor, 
[Seal]  Ex-officio  Justice  of  the 

Peace  and  Notary  Public. 

Jim  was  examining  this  grim  and  solemn  evidence  of 
the  days  of  human  chattelage,  almost  as  strange  to  him 
as  if  it  had  been  some  palimpsest  found  in  an  ancient 
tomb,  when  Mrs.  Garrett  returned. 

"Juliet's  pass,  is  it?"  said  she.  "I  was  so  glad 
Mistah  Garrett  got  it.  Something  to  remind  us  of  her. 
She  used  to  come  down  heah.  Our  Julia  was  a  little 
a-feared  at  first  to  have  her  come  down,  for  what 
folks  might  say  about  Juliet's  bein'  colo'd,  but  oh,  she 
was  just  the  nicest,  sweetest  girl  that  evah  was,  and 
people  that  saw  any  sign  of  colo'd  blood  in  her  had  to 
be  told,  and  then  they  couldn't  see  it — she  was  so 
white." 

"That  should  have  been  white  enough  to  satisfy 
anybody,"  said  Jim. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Garrett,  "and  'pears  like 
it  satisfied  the  man  that  married  her." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
ENCHANTMENT. 

AND  now  at  length  Pressley  began  exhibiting  the 
prime  qualities  of  a  guest.  His  preoccupation  left 
him  and  he  showed  a  receptivity  whose  capacity  was 
finely  measured  to  the  various  offerings  of  his  hosts,  a 
responsiveness,  vitalized  by  just  the  right  amount  of 
appreciation,  to  the  benign  advances  of  his  new  and 
important  acquaintances. 

Bertha,  who  rejoined  the  company  about  this  time, 
gloried  in  him. 

Presently  they  were  all  in  the  parlor,  a  room  furni- 
tured  with  old-fashioned  but  elegant  mahogany  pieces, 
where  Mrs.  Garrett,  with  a  simple,  maternal  pride, 
was  careful  to  show  the  visitor  some  of  the  accomplish- 
ments of  her  talented  sons. 

There  was  the  Lord's  prayer  in  ornamental  penman- 
ship, encased  in  a  frame  two  feet  by  three,  hanging  on 
the  wall,  the  work  of  Dan,  which  Pressley  duly  admired. 

Then  an  oil  painting — a  couple  on  a  bridge  in  a 
gorge — with  "Walter  Garrett,  Pinxit,  1870"  down  hi 
one  corner,  which  Pressley  declared  was  indeed  very 
well  done. 

Nor  did  the  fond  mother  think  that  the  old  and 
bedaubed  palette  and  the  stained  brushes,  the  tools 
with  which  genius  had  wrought,  should  be  without  a 

164 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  165 

somewhat  reverential  interest  for  anyone  having  a 
decent  esteem  for  the  fine  things  in  the  world.  And, 
as  if  to  make  clear  the  aptitude  of  Walter  in  both  art 
and  learning,  she  drew  from  a  drawer  a  thesis  which  he 
had  written  at  the  law  school  on  "  Trial  by  Jury." 

The  woman  displayed  all  these  objects  with  now  and 
then  a  word  of  slight  apology,  but  in  each  case  Pressley 
found  something  to  say  which  to  her  immense  satis- 
faction abundantly  vindicated  her  for  indulging  herself 
in  bringing  them  to  notice. 

But  from  time  to  time  Bertha  could  not  refrain  from 
having  a  little  fun  over  this  "walk  through  a  museum," 
as  she  called  it. 

"I  have  told  mamma  that  Dan  ought  to  hang  up 
that  Lord's  prayer  on  the  lower  deck  of  his  steamboat," 
she  said,  "where  they  probably  need  it  more  than  we 
do  who  know  it  by  heart." 

"  Sho'  'nough  those  lazy,  swearin'  roustabouts  ought 
to  know  what  it  says,"  said  Mrs.  Garrett,  "but  mo'  'an 
likely  they  couldn't  read  it." 

"  It  ought  to  be  carefully  kept,"  said  Pressley.  "  That 
particular  copy  is  a  second  book  of  Daniel." 

"And  I  have  always  wondered  why  mamma  didn't 
send  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Napoleon  Crossing  the  Alps  to 
the  Centennial,"  said  Bertha. 

"Go  'long,"  said  Mrs.  Garrett.  "You  are  always 
too  triflin'  with  yo'  big  brothahs." 

But  Bertha  had  no  quip  when  Mrs.  Garrett  lifted  a 
ponderous  album  from  the  under  shelf  of  the  center 
table  and  turned  to  the  photographs  of  her  sons. 


166  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Pressley  bestowed  upon  them  the  compliment  of  an 
observation  that  manifested  very  great  interest. 
His  consideration  of  them  amounted  to  a  study,  in 
which  one  might  have  perceived  a  perplexity,  especially 
when  he  looked  at  the  photograph  of  Walter.  The 
two  pictures  were  on  opposite  sides  as  the  album  lay 
open,  and  at  times  Pressley's  eyes  ran  rapidly  back 
and  forth  between  them  as  if  he  were  seeking  to  catch 
the  main  resemblance  and  difference. 

Mrs.  Garrett  had  no  other  thought  than  that,  as 
Pressley  had  admired  the  performances  of  these  re- 
markable young  men,  he  was  searching  for  physiog- 
nomic signs  of  their  talent. 

Bertha  supposed  that  he  was  attempting  to  catch 
some  further  truth,  though  vague,  about  herself  in  the 
countenances  of  the  elder  children  of  the  family. 

Garrett  alone  read  Pressley's  face  and  understood. 

When  looking  at  the  photographs  Pressley's  concern 
showed  itself  only  for  a  moment,  but  from  this  time 
on  there  was  solicitude  in  the  older  man  to  put  himself, 
his  whole  family  and  even  the  buildings,  fences,  trees 
and  acres  of  the  Old  Plantation  deep  into  the  warmest 
part  of  the  young  man's  heart.  Here  was  a  stranger 
who  was  come  closer  than  any  yet  before  him  to  the 
inner  life  of  that  dear  group  in  which  Garrett  stood  as 
elder  brother  in  method  of  counsel  and  discipline,  and 
as  patriarch  in  brooding  affection  and  sense  of  respon- 
sibility. The  happiness  of  one  member  of  the  family, 
and  in  a  measure  of  all  members  of  it,  was  now  being 
transferred  to  the  keeping  of  another,  and  Garrett  felt 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  167 

that  he  must  omit  nothing  to  redeem  to  unclouded 
propitiousness  the  assumption  of  so  precious  a  charge. 

Garrett  proposed  that  he  and  Pressley  get  into  the 
buggy  and  make  a  tour  of  the  Plantation,  which  was 
conveniently  divided  by  roadways,  either  fenced, 
making  lanes,  or  by  beaten  wagon  tracks.  By  the 
time  they  returned,  he  said,  the  ladies  might  invite 
them  to  dinner. 

And  so  they  rode  over  the  fields.  Pressley  had  never 
seen  a  farm  of  this  sort.  It  was  new  to  a  youth  who  had 
been  used  to  the  unfenced,  open,  prairie  homesteads  of 
the  west,  too  often  carelessly  cultivated  and  with  houses 
that  seemed  more  like  camping  places  than  established 
homes.  Here  was  the  air  of  thrift,  comfort  and 
permanency,  with  many  a  testimony  to  pride  in  man- 
agement and  the  artistic  sense  in  arrangement.  It 
reminded  Pressley  of  what  he  had  read  about  old- 
country  estates,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  it  must 
fully  represent  the  well-appointed  rural  seats  of  the 
south,  on  which,  and  the  life  there,  his  fancy  had  often 
dwelt. 

The  latter  impression  was  assisted  by  a  little  patch 
of  growing  tobacco  and  cotton. 

"  I  plant  it  every  year,"  said  Mr.  Garrett.  "  More  to 
remind  me  of  the  old  days  and  the  old  home  than  for 
anything  else,  though  we  make  some  use  of  the  tobacco. 
It  furnishes  the  little  in  various  forms  that  I  need 
or,  rather,  that  I  use,  and  even  the  cotton  is  serviceable 
in  raw  form  for  packing  or  padding  as  occasion  some- 
times comes.  There  is  only  a  little  of  them,  you  see, 


168  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

but  the  small  crop  is  tended  and  cured  with  just  as 
much  care  as  if  it  covered  all  my  fields." 

Garrett  talked  with  the  young  man  about  his  studies 
and  ambitions,  and  in  this  connection  discussed  to  some 
extent  the  training  and  achievements  of  his  own  sons; 
nor  was  Bertha  left  out,  and  it  soon  appeared  to  Press- 
ley  that  the  kindly,  gray-haired  man  beside  him  was 
as  ardent  an  admirer  of  that  angelic  young  lady  as  he 
was  himself.  Indeed,  at  moments  he  almost  felt  that 
he  had  a  rival  here  whose  cunning  he  needed  to  fear, 
and  was  not  wholly  untouched  by  a  feeling  of  jealousy. 

In  a  conversation  on  such  matters  some  confidences 
are  inevitable,  and  before  the  tour  was  completed 
Pressley  was  half  under  the  illusion  that  he  was  talking 
with  a  school  chum  of  about  his  own  age,  recently 
established  as  a  country  gentleman,  whom  solely  he 
had  come  to  visit  on  a  pressing  and  familiarly-worded 
invitation,  and  not  with  an  elderly  man  whose  face 
he  had  not  seen  until  that  morning. 

It  was  into  an  enchanted  chamber  that  Pressley  was 
conducted  for  dinner.  The  shutters  were  closed,  the 
curtains  drawn,  and  the  room  was  illumined  with  the 
light  of  wax  candles.  They  were  disposed  in  silver 
candelabra  that  towered  moderately  high  above  the 
table  and  the  tapers  shed  their  rays  through  globular 
shades  of  various  hues.  These,  to  Pressley,  were 
radiant  orbs  in  a  new  firmament,  for  he  felt  that  he  had 
just  made  a  transition  from  one  universe  to  another 
whose  elements  were  more  refined. 

Several  vases  of  flowers  were  set  here  and  there, 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  169 

that  seemed  to  have  a  delicacy  of  glory  and  sweetness 
of  perfume  not  altogether  of  this  earth,  or,  if  so,  to  be 
growing  more  beautiful  still  in  this  atmosphere  of 
ecstasy.  And  the  cloth  looked  as  if  it  might  be  of  the 
same  composition  as  the  lily,  while  the  ware  and  the 
plate,  Pressley  almost  fancied,  had  also  bloomed  hi  a 
garden  and  been  plucked,  rather  than  that  they  were 
products  that  had  been  moulded  and  burned,  beaten 
and  burnished. 

When  Mr.  Garrett  presented  himself  to  escort 
Pressley  to  dinner  he  was  wearing  evening  dress. 
Pressley  thought  it  singular,  but  supposed  that  perhaps 
it  was  an  odd  custom  with  Mr.  Garrett  to  take  dinner 
so  attired,  though  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  or  that  it 
was  one  of  his  ways  of  showing  consideration  for  a 
guest.  Mr.  Garrett  did  not  tell  him  it  had  been  a  long 
time  since  last  he  had  the  swallow-tail  on. 

Pressley  had  seen  neither  of  the  women  since  his 
return  from  the  fields.  Mrs.  Garrett  was  in  the  dining 
room  when  he  and  her  husband  entered,  dressed  in 
airy  white.  The  three  waited  a  moment  for  Bertha. 

And  then  into  this  glory  she  walked,  bringing  a  far 
more  abundant  glory  with  her.  Nay,  walked  not,  as 
it  appeared  to  Pressley.  She  came  by  no  locomotive 
machinery  of  common  joints  and  muscles.  She  simply 
appeared  in  the  midst,  a  door  being  open,  and  imme- 
diately flowers,  radiance  and  fragrance  seemed  to 
refer  to  her  alone.  She  wore  a  soft,  flowing  cream- 
white,  armless  gown,  cut  low.  A  rose  was  in  her  hair 
and  from  a  necklace  of  pearls  a  diamond  stole  far  down 
the  snowy  field  in  front. 


170  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Pressley  had  never  seen  her  thus  arrayed.  He  did 
not  know  that  she  had  such  resources  in  her  wardrobe. 
He  had  never  imagined  her  in  evening  dress  nor, 
indeed,  did  he  know  much  more  about  this  costume 
than  he  had  learned  from  references  to  it  in  novels  and 
illustrations  of  it  in  the  fashion  pages  of  magazines. 
He  had  been  taught  that  it  was  a  vanity  or  a  snare. 
But  Bertha  certainly  never  looked  more  like  an  angel 
to  him.  She  was  talking  gaily.  All  were  talking. 
Pressley  was  talking  but  he  knew  not  what  was  being 
said,  no  more  his  own  words  than  those  of  others. 
As  they  sat  down,  he  had  a  sense  of  the  meanness  of  his 
own  garb,  though  he  wore  a  neat  summer  suit  of  serge. 
But  he  was  not  awkward.  He  was  excited  with 
delight. 

Then  came  Old  Maggie  bearing  a  soup  of  early 
potatoes  flavored  with  thyme  from  the  garden.  How 
vulgar  and  impudent  seemed  the  daylight  as  it  ob- 
truded itself  on  all  this  elegance  and  daintiness  through 
the  door  that  the  servant  must  frequently  open! 

It  was  soon  a  merry  party.  But  for  the  feminine 
voices  one  might  have  supposed,  being  in  the  next 
room,  that  a  company  of  jolly  youth  were  banquetting 
at  an  inn.  The  finest  cloth  Mrs.  Garrett  possessed  was 
on  the  board,  and  several  pieces  of  ware,  choice  for 
their  make  or  their  history,  and  of  late  not  often  used, 
seemed  to  show  their  satisfaction  by  gleaming  still  a 
little  brighter  at  being  taken  from  sideboard  or  shelf 
to  do  unwonted  exercise  on  the  table.  And  when 
Old  Maggie  came  with  the  first  out-pour  of  wine  the 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  171 

venerable  demijohn,  though  now  long  void  and 
but  an  idle  spectator  on  this  occasion,  might  have  been 
imagined  as  rejoicing  to  see  this  hour  and  winking  at 
the  cheery  little  drinking  glasses. 

Pressley  was  not  asked  if  he  would  have  wine. 
The  liquor  was  served  by  Old  Maggie  from  the  bottle, 
and  she  filled  Pressley's  glass  as  she  made  the  round 
of  the  table. 

Pressley  had  not  thought  about  wine.  He  was, 
indeed,  unfamiliar  with  drinking  glasses.  He  had 
noticed  the  dainty  vessels  before  him  but  supposed 
they  were  for  ices  or  some  other  dessert.  He  had  never 
tasted  wine  save  at  a  communion  service.  He  had 
grown  up  with  a  notion  that  it  was  something  to  be 
used  occasionally,  only  on  a  preacher's  or  a  physician's 
prescription,  by  saints  or  sick  people. 

Mr.  Garrett  supposed  as  much  as  this,  and  said  in 
way  of  explanation  or  apology,  as  he  lifted  his  sauterne : 

"  Mr.  Pressley,  this  is  the  only  thing  President  Boyce 
takes  me  to  task  about.  You  may  not  be  accustomed 
to  it.  Of  late  years  we  ourselves  have  scarcely  been. 
We,  too,  are  pretty  good  temperance  people,  yet  we 
have  not  felt  bound  to  abandon  all  use  of  this  solvent 
of  souls,  which,  with  us  at  least,  is  without  danger,  and 
when  dear  friends  come  to  see  us,  we  feel  like  having 
the  company  also  of  friendship's  oldest  friend.  It  is 
not  strong.  Do  no  violence  to  your  principles,  and, 
whether  you  lift  your  glass  or  not,  I  know  you  join  me 
in  wishing  health,  happiness  and  prosperity  to  the 
Old  Plantation  and  everyone  upon  it." 


172  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

But  Pressley  made  no  scruple  about  the  wine.  He 
was  in  a  new  world  today.  Whatever  was  here,  he 
was  sure,  was  right.  He  met  Mr.  Garrett's  goblet  with 
his  own  so  vigorously  that  it  is  strange  a  shower  of 
glass  did  not  mingle  with  the  shower  of  wine  which  fell 
upon  the  cloth. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Garrett,  can  a  woman  ever  forgive  that?" 
cried  Pressley,  as  he  looked  at  the  spotted  linen. 

"Just  right,"  said  Mr.  Garrett.  "A  little  of  that 
once  in  a  while  is  a  good  thing  for  a  table-cloth,  and  this 
one  hasn't  had  any  for  some  time. " 

"  Nevah  mind  it,"  said  Mrs.  Garrett,  "  Indeed,  we'll 
try  not  to  wash  it  out,  so's  we  shall  have  something 
to  remembah  you  by." 

"I  was  about  to  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Mr.  Garrett. 
"I  know  that  was  a  guest's  toast,  but  I  have  always, 
since  coming  to  this  place,  had  something  of  the 
feeling  of  a  guest — of  a  guest  who  was  made  to  'feel 
at  home.' " 

Mr.  Garrett  was  pleased  that  Pressley  had  taken  the 
wine.  He  held  the  southern  gentleman's  tradition  that 
it  is  one  of  the  choice  instruments  of  elegant  manners. 
So  much  the  better  if  this  was  Pressley's  first  introduc- 
tion to  the  marvelous  medium  through  which  social 
amenities  are  so  delicately  communicated.  The  effect 
would  be  the  more  definite,  and  would  be  prolonged  if 
the  experience  remained  singular. 

To  put  the  table  under  the  refining  witchery  of 
candle  light  had  also  been  Mr.  Garrett's  idea.  It  was 
his  readily  adopted  suggestion,  too,  that  the  ladies 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  173 

appear  in  evening  dress,  for  Bertha  was  delighted  to 
observe  in  him  a  zest  to  please  her  lover;  nor  was  it 
by  chance  that  she  was  a  moment  tardy  in  coming  to 
the  dining  room,  thus  imparting  to  her  entry  something 
of  the  nature  of  a  climax. 

"But  no  other  toast  is  good  enough  to  be  proposed 
until  that  one  has  been  drunk  twice,"  said  Pressley  in 
reply  to  Mr.  Garrett.  "  I  propose  it  again." 

"  Good  for  you,  Jim,"  said  Bertha. 

Maggie  filled  the  glasses  again,  and  a  second  libation 
was  offered  to  this  sentiment. 

And  thus  the  way  was  cleared  for  a  troop  of  toasts 
in  the  course  of  the  banquet — to  the  guest  who  had 
always  been  "at  home";  to  the  guest  who  had  but  just 
come;  to  the  absent  members  of  the  family;  to  the 
mistress  of  the  Old  Plantation. 

"To  the  girl," — Pressley  was  saying. 

"WE  ALL  LOVE,"  cried  Mr.  Garrett,  laughing,  and 
ending  the  sentence  for  him. 

Old  Maggie's  duties  as  a  waitress  gave  her  an  oppor- 
tunity for  studying  this  important  stranger,  which  she 
improved  with  an  assiduity  that  at  times  jeopardized 
the  safety  of  her  bountiful  burdens.  The  dinner  had 
not  far  progressed  before  it  was  plain  that  messengers 
from  her  heart  were  seeking  to  make  their  way  out  upon 
the  bleak  field  of  her  face  to  light  it  up  with  signals  of 
approval. 

At  length,  in  the  dessert  stage  of  the  feast,  Pressley 
praised  the  blackberry  pie,  and,  on  being  informed 
that  really  Bertha  herself  made  it,  proposed  a  toast  to 


174  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

the  baker,  whereupon  Old  Maggie,  when  she  had  been 
given  to  understand  what  had  happened,  started  as 
if  to  throw  her  arms  around  him,  and  then  drew  back 
in  most  shamefaced  confusion,  while  Mrs.  Garrett 
feigned  a  stern  air  and  Bertha  laughed  gaily. 

But  Pressley  at  once  redeemed  the  old  servant  from 
mortification  by  toasting  her,  in  which  he  was  heartily 
seconded  by  Mr.  Garrett.  She  could  not  well  hear 
what  was  said,  but  she  comprehended  their  gestures, 
and  she  proceeded  to  her  next  duty  in  much  excitement, 
feeling  that  she  had  suddenly  been  exalted  into  the 
company  of  the  great  ones  of  earth. 

In  the  afternoon  Pressley  and  Bertha  spent  a  few 
hours  together,  visiting  spots  on  the  Old  Plantation 
or  in  the  vicinity,  notable  in  Bertha's  happy  childhood 
and  girlhood  history,  such  as  the  tree  in  the  orchard 
under  which  she  used  to  play  house;  the  beech  wood 
where  in  infancy  she  seemed  so  far,  far  from  home; 
the  brook  under  the  bridge,  which  she  used  to  dam; 
the  huge  grape  vine  in  the  dale  that  for  many  summers 
was  her  swing,  and  the  little  school  house  where  as  a 
five-year-old  standing  on  a  desk  she  would  recite 
"pieces"  to  the  big  girls  and  be  told  she  was  a  smart 
little  thing — all  scenes  of  more  interest  to  Pressley 
than  could  have  been  any  Washington  Elms,  Black 
Forests,  Tibers,  monuments  or  battlefields. 

He  could  not  hear  her  say  enough  about  her  childish 
experiences.  He  wished  he,  too,  had  been  a  child 
in  this  neighborhood,  so  that  he  might  always  have 
known  Bertha.  He  was  sure  he  would  have  loved  her 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  175 

even  as  a  tot  and  would  have  continued  to  be  her 
adorer  up  through  all  the  years.  Quarrels  could  not 
have  come  between  them,  and  no  other  little  miss 
could  possibly  have  alienated  his  affections. 

"Bertha,  your  father  acts  as  if  he  knew,"  said 
Pressley. 

"I  told  him  this  morning,"  she  replied.  "I  couldn't 
help  it.  I  can  never  keep  anything  from  him." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"He  didn't  scold  me  a  bit,"  she  said  playfully. 

"Did  he  ever  scold  you  for  anything?" 

"Never." 

"And  your  mother?" 

"I  didn't  tell  her,  but  I  believe  she  understands 
well  enough. " 

"Well,  I  think  your  father  is  a  good  person  to  let 
into  the  secret,"  said  Pressley  in  a  manner  that  indi- 
cated a  liking  for  the  old  man. 

When  they  returned  to  the  house  it  was  late  in  the 
afternoon  and  Jim  spoke  of  starting  home.  He  was 
invited  to  prolong  his  stay  and  ride  back  after  sundown, 
which  suggestion  he  would  have  been  exceedingly  glad 
to  follow,  but,  as  he  had  already  told  Bertha,  he  had 
agreed  to  be  one  of  a  boating  party  that  evening,  and 
he  conceived,  too,  that  it  would  be  appreciated  by 
the  older  folks  if,  on  his  first  visit  to  Bertha  at  her 
home,  he  did  not  stay  as  long  as  he  possibly  could. 

But  they  all  insisted  that  he  yet  remain  long 
enough  to  enjoy  with  them,  out  under  a  tree,  a  little 
feast  of  ice  cream  and  cake. 


176  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"Cream  from  our  Jerseys  and  ice  from  Beechwood 
Lake,"  said  Mr.  Garrett. 

When  this  was  over  Mr.  Garrett  went  with  Pressley 
to  the  barn  to  saddle  the  horse.  As  Pressley  was 
buckling  the  girths  the  old  man  slipped  off  his  ringer 
a  middling  heavy,  plain,  gold  ring  and  offered  it  to 
Pressley,  saying : 

"  Wear  it  in  memory  of  this  day." 

Pressley  was  astonished  at  this  token  and  request, 
so  rarely  passing  from  man  to  man,  and  hesitated. 

"  Wear  it  in  memory  of  today,"  repeated  Mr.  Garrett. 

There  was  great  kindliness  in  the  voice,  even  tender- 
ness, and  a  minor  tone  of  pleading  that  Pressley  could 
not  understand.  He  was  deeply  moved. 

"I  will,"  said  Pressley,  "though  I  never  could  forget 
today.  On  what  finger — Oh,  yes,  I  see,  on  your  third 
finger.  I  shall  wear  it  the  same,"  and  Pressley  was 
further  moved  when  he  observed  a  slightly  sunken 
band  of  flattened  flesh  on  the  finger  where  the  band  of 
gold  had  been,  indicating  that  it  had  been  long  worn. 

Mounted  at  the  front  gate  Pressley  bade  the  little 
company  collectively  good-by,  and  started  his  horse. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  said  Mr.  Garrett. 

With  one  arm  around  Bertha's  waist  and  the  other 
behind  her  knees,  he  lifted  her  up  against  the  shoulder 
of  the  horse. 

"You  must  kiss  the  children,  you  know,"  said  he 
roguishly. 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  Pressley,  and  he  leaned 
forward  and  kissed  the  girl,  not  without  some  blushes 
on  both  sides. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  177 

"Proper!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Garrett  as  he  lowered  the 
precious  burden. 

And  then,  with  final  adieux,  the  young  man  rode 
away. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

DISMANTLEMENT  OF  PARADISE. 

WHEN  Pressley  awoke  the  next  morning  he  was  in 
a  strange  mental  condition. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  it  was  himself,  indeed,  who 
had  gone  down  to  Bertha's  home  the  morning  before, 
but  that  another  person,  wearing  his  face  and  figure, 
had  soon  superseded  him  there  and  completed  the  visit. 

In  his  own  person  he  had  received  Bertha's  greeting, 
had  been  introduced  to  Mr.  Garrett,  had  brought  the 
dog  out  of  the  cellar,  had  been  stunned  by  conviction 
on  the  testimony  of  his  own  senses  that  Mrs.  Garrett 
was  not  pure  white,  had  struggled  a  while  in  this  state, 
and  then  the  other  person  had  entered  him  and  was 
Jim  Pressley  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

'  "  I — I — I — myself — a  white  man — an  Anglo-Saxon — 
I — it  doesn't  fit  me,"  was  the  bewildering  thought  in 
the  young  man's  mind. 

"How  could  such  a  thing  happen  hi  reality  as  that 
I  should  be  in  love  with  a  girl  part  negro?  How  could 
I  un-race  myself,  ex-genate  myself,  and  in  an  hour 
become  in  feeling  as  much  Ethiopian  as  Caucasian? 

"And  wine — I  do  not  drink  wine.  And  this  gold 
ring  on  my  finger,  a  present  from  a  man — I  do  not  get 
gold  rings  from  men.  It  is  here  on  my  finger,  but  I — 
I  myself — did  not  use  this  hand  yesterday.  Another 

178 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  179 

person  like  me  used  it.  He  received  the  ring  from  a 
kind  old  gentleman  who  was  making  love  to  him. 
When  he  got  out  of  my  body  and  let  me  into  it  again, 
of  course  I  got  back  my  hand,  and  the  ring  is  on  it.  I 
do  not  want  the  ring. 

"And  these  hands  lifting  goblets  of  wine;  and  this 
tongue,  my  own  tongue,  proposing  toasts  and  clattering 
merrily  at  a  negro  evening  party!  What  a  strange 
place  that  other  fellow  took  my  body  to,  my  hands, 
my  face,  my  hair,  my  eyes — every  part  of  me  except 
my  real  self!  I — I — all  of  me  that  can  be  seen — made 
to  act  as  the  lover  of  a  negro  belle — as  the  worshipper  of 
a  beautiful  African  goddess!  And  where  was  I  all  this 
time — I  mean  I,  Jim  Pressley — where  was  I?" 

Pressley  could  not  regret,  however,  that  the  "other 
person"  had  taken  possession  of  him  just  when  the 
mystical  stranger  did,  for  Jim  was  satisfied  that  the 
usurper  had  behaved  very  agreeably  as  a  guest,  while 
the  Pressley  who  was  superseded  must  have  cut  his 
visit  off  abruptly  or  been  miserable  all  day  himself  and 
by  his  troubled  state  of  mind  caused  uneasiness 
and  distress  to  his  entertainers. 

As  yet  there  had  been  no  conduct  on  his  part  that 
would  require  explanation  and  he  could  at  his  leisure 
consider  the  situation  in  which  he  now  found  himself. 

When  he  went  down  to  Bertha's  home  he  had  quite 
forgotten  that  his  mind  had  been  vexed  by  any  question 
about  her  mother,  but  his  very  first  sensation  on  seeing 
Mrs.  Garrett  was  a  distinction  of  race.  Slight,  indeed, 
must  be  the  admixture  of  the  baser  blood,  but  un- 


180  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

doubtedly  it  was  there,  and  he  had  been  instantly  and 
utterly  overcome  by  the  particular  significance  of 
the  fact,  to  wit:  that  as  it  sharply  defined  a  barrier 
between  him  and  Mrs.  Garrett,  it  raised  a  like  obstacle 
between  him  and  Bertha. 

He  had  looked  at  Bertha,  and,  as  she  thought, 
strangely,  for  his  mind  had  gone  swiftly  to  a  com- 
parison between  the  older  and  the  younger  woman, 
inquiring  if,  now  that  he  had  seen  the  mother,  he  would 
not  be  assisted  hi  discerning  some  shadows  of  race 
traits  that  had  heretofore  eluded  his  detection  in  the 
daughter.  He  could  see  a  resemblance  in  no  detail 
whatsoever,  but  he  was  not  relieved,  holding  that 
Bertha's  composition,  so  fair  to  every  sense,  must 
nevertheless  contain  an  element  of  crude  and  despised 
alloy. 

How  generously  and  gallantly,  he  now  reflected 
bitterly,  had  he  repelled  the  thought  of  this,  only  at 
length  to  be  rewarded  by  being  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  phantom  he  had  denied,  to  find  it  was  sub- 
stance and  truth! 

The  fond  present  in  which  he  was  dwelling,  the 
blissful  future,  on  which  for  months  he  had  been  musing, 
that  blessed  time  to  come,  filled  with  love  and  joy  and 
dignified  and  glorified  by  the  companionship  of  Bertha 
— all  vanished  in  an  instant. 

His  resentment  at  first  was  against  fortune,  but  in 
a  moment  it  was  directed  against  Bertha,  for  he  felt 
that  it  was  an  unpardonable  outrage  upon  him  that 
she  had  concealed  a  fact  which  she  must  well  have 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  181 

known  was  of  vital  pertinency  to  the  relation  that  was 
being  formed  between  them. 

To  be  angry,  to  be  even  displeased,  with  Bertha 
was  a  sensation  absolutely  new  to  him  and  as  painful 
as  it  was  novel.  He  strove  to  subdue  his  inward 
perturbation,  but,  as  we  have  seen,  without  full  success. 
It  was  aggravated  when  Mrs.  Garrett  conversed  with 
him,  because  her  manner  of  speaking  and  frequently 
the  expression  on  her  face  continued  to  confirm  the 
unwelcome  truth  which  he  believed  he  had  just 
discovered. 

But  when  he  became  engaged  alone  in  conversation 
with  Abner  Garrett  a  singular  calm  came  over  his 
feelings.  As  Garrett  talked  about  the  various  phases 
of  the  institution  of  slavery,  the  characteristics  of  the 
enslaved  race,  the  philanthropy  of  the  anti-slavery 
agitation,  and  the  devotion  of  heroic  souls  to  the  cause 
of  emancipation,  a  sympathy  with  the  colored  race 
that  went  remarkably  far  found  a  place  in  Pressley's 
heart.  It  was  the  product  of  Mr.  Garrett's  own 
sympathy,  inculcated  by  the  speaker's  intelligence, 
candor  and  nobly  human  sensibilities.  Pressley  was 
not  the  first  who  had  fallen  under  the  spell  of  this 
man's  words  when  he  was  talking  on  a  serious  subject 
with  which  he  was  familiar,  and  especially  if  his  con- 
victions trembled  with  the  electricity  of  the  emotions. 

Pressley  made  a  race  concession  and  personally  what 
might  be  called  a  race  surrender,  not  unconditional, 
indeed,  but  sufficiently  indulgent  to  put  him  at  perfect 
ease  regarding  a-  union  with  Bertha,  and  an  alliance 


182  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

with  her  family.  If  he  could  not  see  the  slightest  in- 
dication of  colored  blood  in  Bertha,  Pressley  concluded 
it  was  foolish  and  unreasonable,  as  well  as  tormenting, 
to  worry  about  the  matter,  and  he  resolved  he  would 
do  so  no  more.  And  besides,  had  he  not  a  lesson 
before  his  eyes?  Were  not  the  races,  as  observable, 
mingled  in  this  very  home,  and  yet  was  it  not  a  home 
of  tender  affections,  of  intelligence,  of  comfort,  of 
elegance?  What  in  a  home  could  a  man  want  more? 

This  impression  kept  growing  in  decisiveness  and 
confirming  itself  hi  Pressley's  mind  the  longer  he 
remained  at  the  Old  Plantation  and  the  more  the 
influences  there,  personal  and  impersonal,  operated 
upon  his  susceptibilities.  For,  besides  the  overflow 
of  graciousness  on  all  sides  from  the  hearts  of  his  hosts, 
not  the  least  part  of  which  was  the  fine  affability  of 
Mr.  Garrett,  Pressley  was  sensible  of  a  most  pleasing 
charm  coming  from  the  atmosphere  that  lay  over  the 
place. 

But  on  awakening  in  the  morning  he  was,  as  indicated 
by  the  inarticulate  soliloquy  we  have  quoted,  confused, 
disappointed,  ashamed,  even  remorseful.  It  seemed 
to  him,  and  possibly  the  remembrance  of  the  wine 
suggested  it,  that  he  had  been  on  some  refined  debauch, 
induced  not  by  any  gross  or  common  excitant,  but  by 
a  subtle  element  that  had  stolen  upon  his  senses 
unawares. 

He  was  sick  of  the  day  before. 

His  conduct  then  now  seemed  to  him  most  strange. 
He  remembered  it  as  if  it  had  been  a  dream.  So  far 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  183 

away  from  himself,  as  he  now  understood  himself, 
had  his  excitement  carried  him  that  he  was  prone  to 
attribute  it  to  impulses  of  a  wholly  exterior  origin.  A 
possession,  at  least  an  obsession,  "that  other  fellow," 
was  the  explanation  which  presented  itself,  to  his 
bewildered  faculties  as  the  most  plausible.  He  felt 
that  he  had  been  tricked.  Mr.  Garrett's  charming 
manners?  They  had  been  but  wiles  to  seduce  him 
into  a  position  that  no  white  man  could  assume. 
The  illuminated  dining  room?  Artfully  contrived 
stage  for  a  matinee  performance  in  which  he  was  to 
be  an  actor  but  which  nevertheless  was  to  produce 
upon  him  a  perfect  illusion. 

He  pulled  from  his  finger  the  gold  ring  Mr.  Garrett 
had  given  him  and  flung  it  to  the  floor. 

"  In  memory  of  this  day,"  he  repeated  in  disgust. 

Then  a  wave  of  shame  overcame  him,  and  he  picked 
the  ring  up,  affected  even  again  and  now  by  the  manner 
of  Mr.  Garrett's  address  when  the  memento  was  be- 
stowed. 

"I  wonder  if  she  really  meant  not  to  tell  me,"  he 
said,  moving  his  lips  to  the  words  but  not  speaking 
aloud,  "thinking  that  when  I  found  out,  the  matter 
would  have  g9ne  so  far  that  I  couldn't  let  her  go. 
Oh,  I  do  love  you — I  did  love  you,  darling  girl — but 
I  cannot  give  up  my  manhood!  I  cannot  lose  the 
respect  of  all  white  men!  I  cannot  make  myself  over 
and  be  somebody  else ! " 

But  there  was  Mr.  Garrett.  Had  he  lost  the  respect 
of  all  white  men?  Did  not  President  Boyce  and  Prof. 


184  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Bland  express  high  esteem  for  him?  Did  they  not  go 
to  his  home  to  dine?  And  yet  would  they  imitate  him 
hi  the  particular  about  which  Pressley  was  just  now 
thinking  most? 

And  the  preacher  was  also  hi  love  with  Bertha,  and 
he  must  know.  "Shiftless  Henry,"  too,  had  a  fancy 
for  her,  though,  to  be  sure,  how  "Shif"  was  affected 
by  any  person  or  thing  did  not  signify  much. 

And  thus  began  a  long  conflict  between  Pressley'a 
judgment  and  his  affection,  torturing  to  the  mind  in 
which  it  raged. 

On  this  particular  morning  his  love,  heretofore  at 
all  times  steadily  ardent,  was  most  woefully  capricious, 
agitated  as  violently  as  a  barometer  when  the  forces 
of  calm  and  storm  are  contending  for  mastery  in  the 
air.  At  one  moment  he  was  hi  the  nightmare  of  de- 
spising her.  At  another  all  his  former  seasons  of 
tenderest  adoration  were  surpassed. 

It  was  his  intention  to  write  to  her  this  very  day 
to  declare  that  all  communication  between  them  must 
cease,  assigning  the  reason  therefor,  and  return  the 
ring  Mr.  Garrett  had  given  him.  But  he  did  not  carry 
out  this  resolution.  The  ruin  was  too  awful  to  be  so 
soon  recognized  as  inevitable.  As  yet  the  crisis  lay 
wholly  within  his  own  breast.  Perhaps,  after  all,  it 
might  there  be  subdued.  Possibly  his  thoughts  and 
feelings,  after  a  hard  wrestling  with  it,  might  yet  turn 
it  away. 

Later  hi  the  day  Pressley  had  occasion  to  go  to  the 
drug  store  kept  by  J.  E.  C.  F.  Harper,  commonly 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  185 

called  "Alphabet"  Harper  from  the  number  of  his 
initials,  and  it  was  even  while  asking  himself  if  it  were 
not  possible  that  he  might  be  mistaken  about  Mrs. 
Garrett  that  he  overheard  the  last  part  of  a  conversation 
between  the  druggist  and  a  stranger,  both  old  residents, 
that  was  relevant  to  this  question. 

"No,  she  wasn't  allowed  to  testify,"  the  druggist 
was  saying  as  Pressley  went  in.  "She  claimed,  and 
always  did  claim,  though  they  didn't  insist  on  it  at  the 
trial,  that  there  was  no  African  blood  in  her,  but  said 
there  was  some  Creole  in  her.  People  generally  thought 
this  was  only  an  excuse,  and  I  guess  it  was.  I  didn't 
see  her  very  often.  It  didn't  show  much,  but  what 
did  show  looked  darkey  to  me.  She  was  a  mighty 
pretty  woman,  just  the  same,  when  she  was  young. 
One  boy  shows  it  more  than  she  does,  and  you  wouldn't 
call  it  creole  hi  him.  The  other  boy  is  whiter  than 
I  am." 

"I  never  saw  much  of  Garrett,"  said  the  stranger. 
"  'Feared  like  a  nice  kind  of  a  man,  but,  of  course,  his 
wife  being  what  she  was,  the  family  'peared  kind  of 
unnat'ral." 

Plain  enough  to  Pressley.  Of  course  it  was  an 
excuse  because  it  was  the  only  thing  that  could  have 
been  made  to  serve  as  such.  And  Pressley  did  not 
fail  to  note  in  the  conversation  he  had  just  heard  the 
use  of  the  past  tense,  when  the  present  might  have  been 
employed,  as  if  the  Garrett  family,  in  real  interest,  had 
ceased  to  be.  Besides,  Pressley  was  now  reminded  of 
an  impression  he  had  received,  but  scarcely  recognized, 


186  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

when  at  the  Old  Plantation,  that  the  life  of  Abner 
Garrett  and  his  wife  was  one  of  considerable  seclusion. 
This  fact,  for  such  he  took  it  to  be,  he  now  compre- 
hended the  more  clearly  because  a  significance  was 
apparent. 

"I  guess  the  old  gentleman's  not  so  rich  as  he  used 
to  be,"  said  the  stranger,  resuming  after  a  pause,  to 
the  druggist. 

"Not  by  any  means,"  replied  Mr.  Harper.  "His 
boys  have  been  heavy  spenders.  Always  had  anything 
they  wanted  and  he  was  never  able  to  deny  them  a 
cent.  The  one  who  came  down  the  river  the  other 
day  with  a  new  steamboat — a  steamboat  is  a  pretty 
costly  plaything." 

Pressley  lingered  in  the  store,  hoping  to  hear  more, 
but  that  was  all. 

For  several  days  he  avoided  being  on  the  streets 
save  early  in  the  morning  or  in  the  evening,  lest  by 
chance  Bertha  should  have  come  to  town  and  he  should 
meet  her.  Meanwhile  he  did  not  write  to  her,  for  his 
state  of  mind  alternated  so  rapidly  that  he  feared  any 
expression  he  made  to  her  might  be  repented  of  before 
the  letter  could  reach  her,  and  to  write  to  her  and 
refrain  from  any  reference  to  his  distress,  it  seemed  to 
him,  would  amount  to  dissimulation  if,  indeed,  it 
would  not  be  altogether  impossible. 

Near  the  end  of  the  week  Pressley  received  an 
urgent  invitation  to  spend  the  summer  with  old  friends 
on  an  Iowa  farm  where  in  years  past  he  had  frequently 
been  received  as  a  member  of  the  family  and  where 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  187 

through  two  vacations  he  had  as  a  farm  hand  re- 
ceived the  dues  of  a  hired  servant  and  at  the  same  time 
enjoyed  the  privileges  of  a  son.  In  the  family  was  a 
youth  of  his  own  age  who  had  been  his  chum  at  the 
high  school,  and  Pressley  was  loved  by  the  parents. 
In  this  instance,  also,  he  was  promised  recompense  of 
two  kinds,  from  the  hand  and  from  the  heart,  and  the 
double  offer  was  instantly  and  gladly  accepted. 

Pressley  felt  that  there  was  a  kindly  fortune  in  his 
receipt  of  this  invitation,  opening  up  to  him  something 
like  a  refuge  or  at  least  an  entire  change  in  his  sur- 
roundings, where  he  would  be  sure  to  find  some  relief 
from  his  present  distraction.  He  was  anxious  to  run 
away,  hoping  that  at  a  distance  he  might  get  such  a 
view  of  College  Hill,  the  Old  Plantation  and  Bertha 
as  to  give  him  a  clearer  apprehension  of  what  his 
situation  required. 

So,  giving  no  more  thought  of  going  over  into  Ken- 
tucky to  engage  in  the  novel  labor  of  picking  peaches, 
he  prepared  forthwith  to  depart  for  Iowa. 

And  now  he  wrote  to  Bertha,  but  only  a  short  note, 
informing  her  that  he  was  going,  and  in  a  style  calcu- 
lated to  imply  that  his  haste  to  get  off  might  excuse 
the  brevity  of  his  announcement.  Those  words  that 
belong  pre-eminently  in  the  vocabulary  of  love  were 
few,  and  Pressley's  ingenuousness  and  sense  of  honor 
were  outraged  by  his  consciousness  that  such  as  were 
there  were  now  used  conventionally  or  with  mental 
reservation.  He  purposely  omitted  telling  her  where 
to  address  a  letter  to  him,  not  being  sure  that  he  would 


188  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

desire  to  receive  one  from  her.  He  felt  like  burning 
some,  if  not  all,  bridges  behind  him  as  he  fled.  He 
closed  his  note,  however,  by  saying  that  he  would 
write  again  soon.  He  left  for  Iowa  that  evening. 

The  deficiencies  in  this  note  alarmed  Bertha.  Cer- 
tainly it  would  be  a  joy  to  Pressley  to  spend  the  summer 
with  old  friends  in  Iowa,  but  if  he  felt  that  he  would 
be  paying  anything  for  it  in  a  long  absence  from  her 
he  did  not  say  so.  He  expressed  no  regret  that  he 
was  going  so  far  away  nor  a  hope  that  he  might  often 
hear  from  her.  And  would  it  have  taken  more  than 
a  dozen  words  to  tell  who  and  where  his  friends  were, 
a  matter  which  he  must  have  known  would  have  been 
of  great  interest  to  her?  Nor  could  she  understand, 
when  her  home  was  but  two  hours  from  his,  why  his 
love  had  not  impelled  him  to  see  her  again,  in  the 
prospect  of  so  long  an  absence,  and  say  farewell  hi 
person.  The  announcement  that  he  would  write  again 
soon,  instead  of  being  simply  a  pleasing  assurance, 
seemed  rather  an  apology,  inadequate  enough,  for  the 
brevity,  the  reticence  and  the  coldness  of  the  com- 
munication. 

Bertha's  first  tears  as  a  maiden  in  love  were  shed 
over  these  few  lines  signed  "Jim."  She  felt  that  she 
was  no  longer  all  the  world  to  a  serious,  steadfast  and 
devoted  lover,  but  that  as  a  boy's  plaything  she  had 
been  quickly  abandoned  for  a  holiday.  Yet  it  was 
through  consideration  of  the  boy  in  him  that,  in  the 
following  days,  she  fully  forgave  him.  He  had  seen 
her  but  a  few  days  ago.  He  might  be  reluctant  to 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  189 

run  the  risk  of  having  his  ardor  declared  foolishness 
by  older  heads  on  account  of  a  speedy  reappearance 
at  her  home,  and  a  schoolboy's  enthusiasm  over  a 
vision  of  familiar  and  beloved  fields  and  faces,  on  a 
vacation,  and  an  impulse  to  leap  into  the  reality  of  it 
might  have  distracted  one,  who  was  still  a  novice  at 
writing  love  letters,  sufficiently  to  make  a  wholly 
satisfactory  letter  impossible. 

On  the  Iowa  farm  Pressley  imagined,  as  if  looking 
with  the  sun  down  from  the  sky,  College  Hill,  Madison, 
the  stony  roads,  the  smooth  pikes,  the  heavy  woods 
and  the  Old  Plantation,  five  hundred  miles  away, 
and  saw  even  himself  as  an  actor  in  tender  scenes 
there.  The  fact  of  intervening  distance  did,  indeed, 
somewhat  fortify  him  as  he  recollected  all  that  had 
happened  there  and  contemplated  the  dismantlement 
of  the  paradise  that  this  quiet  little  corner  of  the 
world  had  been  to  him.  For  no  more  would  he  there 
walk  in  the  company  of  an  angel.  And  so  in  the 
summer  love's  springtime  work  was  undone.  Not 
because  it  had  not  been  well  done,  not  through  levity 
or  fickleness  or  faithlessness,  but  with  reluctance  on 
the  one  side  and  pleading  on  the  other,  under  the  griev- 
ous and  compelling  goad  of  what  is  always  a  woeful 
surprise  to  lovers — a  sentiment  more  imperious  than 
love  itself. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

STRUGGLE  OF  Two  HEARTS. 

ONE  evening  as  Bertha  was  riding  home  from  the 
country  postoffice  a  few  people,  at  different  points  on 
the  road,  saw  her  crying,  and  one  or  two  persons  caught 
a  glimpse  of  her  thus  when  at  the  same  time  they 
observed  that  she  held  a  letter  in  her  hand. 

It  was  her  first  letter  from  Pressley  in  Iowa,  and 
its  effect  on  Bertha,  thus  noticed  as  she  read  it  on 
horseback,  furnished  the  neighborhood,  as  time  proved, 
with  a  clue  to  the  distress  she  was  soon  known  to  feel. 

Along  with  the  letter,  in  a  little  package  by  itself, 
came  the  ring  that  Abner  Garrett  had  given  to  Pressley. 

It  happened  that  as  Bertha  drew  near  home  she  met 
the  former,  who,  on  an  evening  walk,  had  gone  a  little 
distance  up  the  highway.  He  saw  at  once  that  she 
was  deeply  troubled.  Before  he  could  ask  a  question 
she  handed  him  the  opened  box  in  which  lay  the  ring, 
and  then  began  to  cry  afresh. 

"The  ring!"  said  Garrett  in  almost  a  whisper. 
"  Which  I  gave  him  to  remember  that  happy  day !  So 
soon ! " 

"  Pressley,  then?  "  he  continued,  looking  up  at  Bertha. 

With  her  face  still  in  her  handkerchief  she  handed 
him  the  letter. 

"Get  down,  child,"  said  he. 
190 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  191 

She  dismounted  and  he  put  his  arms  around  her. 
Child  again  in  the  old  man's  arms,  but  not  this  time 
with  a  broken  doll.  A  graver  perplexity.  A  broken 
heart! 

As  they  stood  thus,  close  to  the  pony  that  was 
nibbling  the  grass  by  the  roadside,  Mr.  Garrett  read 
the  letter.  It  was  not  long,  but  in  it  the  young  man 
recapitulated  the  whple  of  the  recent  experience  of 
his  heart.  He  described  how  sincere  had  been  his 
affection,  how  great  had  been  his  joy,  and  he  did  not 
omit  a  lamentation  that  both  had  been  built  on  a 
false  foundation.  He  told  her  that  what  he  had  first 
learned  from  Gassier,  and  refused  to  believe,  he  had 
confirmed  by  personal  observation. 

He  asked  for  no  information  or  explanation  from 
Bertha,  assuming,  as  if  beyond  question,  not  only 
that,  through  her  mother,  though  Bertha's  appearance 
seemed  to  abundantly  contradict  it,  she  was  of  mixed 
blood,  but  that  with  unpardonable  design  of  imposition 
she  had  refrained  from  acquainting  him  with  this 
fundamental  fact  concerning  herself,  which  he  had  an 
imperative  right  to  know. 

There  was  no  upbraiding  further  than  his  plain 
statement  of  the  essential  facts  as  he  now  felt  sure 
they  were.  He  intimated,  in  short,  that,  while  he 
had  acted  with  the  good  faith  and  perfectly  open  heart 
of  an  honest  and  ardent  lover,  her  conduct  had  been 
somewhat  like  that  of  an  adventuress.  He  did  not, 
indeed,  deny  that  she  fondly  loved  him,  but  she  had 
sought  to  guard  his  love  for  her  with  an  unjustifiable 
concealment. 


192  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"  I  wish  I  had  told  him,"  said  Mr.  Garrett  regretfully 
as  he  finished  reading  the  letter. 

"Told  him  what,  papa?"  eagerly  asked  the  tearful 

girl- 
Mr.  Garrett  had  not  spoken  to  her  but  to  himself, 
as   if   momentarily   forgetful   of   her   presence.     Her 
quick  question,  therefore,  put  him  into  a  confusion 
which,  however,  she  was  in  no  state  to  notice. 

"Why,  told  him — told  him  that  if  at  any  time 
anything,  no  matter  what,  should  seem  to  rise  between 
you  he  should  see  me." 

"Isn't  mamma  just  as  white  as  you?"  asked  Bertha. 
"Your  mother  is  just  as  white  as  I." 
"Well,  there's  no  negro  in  you,  is  there?" 
"  Not  a  drop,  nor  in  your  mother." 
"What  could  Jim  mean — what  could  he  mean?" 
repeated  the  girl,  while  Mr.  Garrett  remained  silent 
pretending  to  appear  as  one  seeking  in  his  mind  for 
some  hypothesis  to  hazard  as  the  possible  solution  of 
a  mystery. 

"What  could  he  mean?"  again  repeated  Bertha 
with  still  more  emphasis.  "  He  says  that  what  he  had 
already  learned  from  Gassier  was  confirmed  by  per- 
sonal observation." 

"My  child,  in  the  bitterness  of  the  anti-slavery 
agitation  people  used  to  tell  all  sorts  of  stories  about 
those  who  were  friends  of  the  negro.  A  man  once 
travelled  thirty  miles  for  the  sole  purpose  of  seeing 
Mrs.  Boyce  and  so  finding  out  for  himself  if  she  was  a 
colored  woman,  as  he  had  been  told  she  was.  Perhaps 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  193 

stories  like  that  have  been  told  about  my  wife,  and  an 
echo  of  them  has  reached  Pressley's  ears  at  this  late 
day.  As  for  his  personal  observation,  his  judgment  might 
have  been  vitiated  by  the  prejudice  of  the  report." 

Mr.  Garrett  now  suggested  that  they  go  on  home. 
He  led  the  horse  and  Bertha  walked  with  him. 

"It  does  seem  hard,  very  hard,  my  dear  child," 
said  he  on  the  way,  "but  think  of  all  the  love  and 
sunshine  still  about  you." 

"  But,  papa,  if  I  should  tell  Jim  he  was  mistaken  " — 
but  she  interrupted  herself  with  "  Yet  think  of  what  he 
has  imputed  to  me!"  and  a  high  resentment  could  be 
seen  in  her  face,  accompanied  by  an  impressive  pride. 

"  I  believe  he  means  it  to  be  final,"  said  Mr.  Garrett. 

"Now,  Bertha,"  he  continued  with  much  concern, 
"let  us  keep  this  entirely  from  your  mother — not  that 
Pressley  has  ceased  to  feel  interest  in  you,  for  she  will 
know  that  before  long,  but  the  reason  for  it — you  can 
easily  understand  how  much  pain  that  would  give  her." 

To  this  Bertha  assented,  and  while  the  two  walked 
home  no  further  word  was  spoken  between  them. 

No  sleep  came  that  night  to  either. 

The  next  day  Bertha  wrote  the  following  letter  to 
Pressley : 

Dear  Jim: 

Your  letter  seems  to  forbid  that  I  should  still  call  you  so,  but 
I  will  say  "dear,"  though  now  it  is  but  a  fond  tradition. 

You  invite  no  reply,  but  I  must  let  you  know  how  surprised  I 
am  at  the  "  conviction  "  you  express,  and  at  the  summary  man- 
ner in  which  you  have  acted  upon  it,  inasmuch  as  it  is  wholly 
false.  I  cannot  account  for  it. 


194  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

I  thought  that  our  love  had  the  good  foundation  of  an  ad- 
miring understanding  of  each  other's  character.  I  thought  it 
well-grounded,  and  certainly  a  love  so  full  of  the  promise  of 
happiness  ought  not  to  be  wrecked  for  any  reason  not  founded 
on  fact,  and,  though  I  cannot  see  how  the  truth  can  restore  it 
now,  I  must  tell  you  with  all  the  assurance  any  statement  of 
mine  ever  carried  that  you  are  entirely  mistaken  in  the  charge 
you  make  against  my  mother. 

But,  bad  as  was  this  mistake  and  humiliating  and  disgraceful 
as  was  the  opinion  of  me  it  gave  you,  you  made  another  much 
worse.  Your  presumption  that  I  sought  to  hold  your  love  by 
concealment,  by  fraud — it  seems  to  me  you  could  have  sunk  me 
to  no  lower  depth  than  that.  If  your  own  heart  would  not  pro- 
tect me  from  that  blow,  then  any  word  from  me  is  useless. 

It  is  inconceivable  to  me  how  you  came  to  think  or  write  as 
you  did.  If  you  had  desired  an  excuse  for  breaking  an  attach- 
ment of  which  you  had  grown  tired,  it  seems  to  me  you  might 
have  found  one  less  absurd,  cruel  and  insulting. 

BERTHA. 

She  did  not  recount,  as  she  might,  in  regret  that  it 
was  turned  to  bitterness,  the  happiness  she  had  recently 
experienced  and  that  which  she  had  been  anticipating 
from  the  golden  chain  of  years  in  the  future.  She  did 
not  review  the  delightful  hours  they  had  spent  to- 
gether. She  did  not  protest  the  depth  and  ardor  of  her 
love.  She  did  not  remind  him  of  the  preciousness  of 
their  mutual  affection,  which  should  not  be  sacrificed 
on  any  conceivable  account.  She  did  not  implore  that, 
now  his  error  was  made  known,  he  love  her  still. 

She  did  not,  in  short,  tell  him,  as  she  might  have 
done,  that  her  heart  was  breaking. 

Overcoming  the  excuse-finding,  the  magnanimity, 
the  forgiveness  there  is  in  love,  the  dominant  feeling 
in  Bertha's  heart  was  indignation.  There  was  mourn- 
ing; there  were  inward  prayers;  there  was  longing  for 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  195 

return;  there  were  times  when  all  passions  were  fused 
in  nothing  but  tears,  yet  above  these  again  would 
anger  arise,  moderate  but  ruling. 

As  to  mending  this  love,  thus  broken  with  a  crash, 
Bertha  had  little  hope  of  that,  for  so  deeply  offended 
was  her  sense  of  personal  and  family  pride  that,  what- 
ever Pressley  might  do  now,  she  feared  she  never  could 
forgive  him. 

Abner  Garrett  was  grieving  also  to  a  degree  Bertha 
did  not  suspect  and  for  reasons,  going  beyond  paternal 
sympathy,  which  lay  hidden  from  her. 

On  her  return  from  the  postoffice,  after  mailing 
her  reply  to  Pressley,  Garrett  was  again  up  the  road 
a  little  way  to  meet  her. 

"  You  have  replied  to  him?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  and  then  in  response  to  the 
further  inquiry  written  on  his  face  she  continued : 

"  It  was  very  short.  I  only  told  him  it  was  not  true 
and  that  he  had  insulted  us  all." 

"Suppose  he  takes  your  word  for  it?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  feel  it  would  seem  to  me  that  the 
fact  that  he  ever  could  have  those  things  in  his  mind 
about  us  spoiled  him  forever." 

"But  I  fear  he  will  not  take  your  word,"  said  the 
old  man.  "  Well,  you  ride  along,  and  I'll  be  in  shortly." 

On  the  receipt  of  Bertha's  letter  Pressley  was  thrown 
again  into  a  distressful  period  of  repentance,  doubt 
and  vacillation.  Of  course  it  could  not  be  true. 
Bertha  had  given  him  her  solemn  assurance,  and 
Bertha  could  not  be  untruthful.  Moreover,  there 


196  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

never  was  enough  evidence  of  it  to  justify  the  throwing 
away  of  the  choicest  jewel  in  all  the  world  and  the 
relinquishment  of  such  happiness,  actual  and  pros- 
pective, as  was  never  a  man's  before.  If  she  could 
only  forgive  him  his  hasty  error  and  gross  offense  he 
would  be  her  lover  again  as  he  had  been  before  his 
mind  was  poisoned  by  that  miserable  Gassier  and 
vitiated  further  by  his  own  ill-considered  thoughts. 
He  would  hasten  to  ask  her  forgiveness  and  pray  to  be 
restored,  blessed  above  all  other  mortals,  to  that  place 
in  her  heart  which  he  had  so  foolishly  abandoned. 

These  were  his  thoughts  for  an  hour,  to  be  succeeded 
in  the  next  by  the  former  suspicion  and  conviction, 
which,  when  a  few  days  were  passed  by,  were  again 
predominant.  The  common  opinion,  he  thought,  was 
not  likely  to  be  wrong.  He  had  heard  it  expressed  by 
Mr.  Harper  at  the  drug  store.  And  he  himself,  who 
had  seen  with  his  own  eyes,  could  not  be  mistaken, 
else  there  were  things  about  the  appearances  of  white 
and  colored  people  that  he  was  not  aware  of. 

But  Bertha's  letter  and  some  reflection  had  con- 
vinced him  of  one  mistake,  which  was  thinking  that 
the  girl  had  concealed  from  him  a  knowledge  which 
she  knew  must  be  incompatible  with  the  relation  they 
had  assumed.  This  he'  did  not  now  believe.  He 
could  understand  how  likely  it  was  that  she  was  brought 
up  in  ignorance  of  a  fact  which  was  disgraceful  to  the 
family  and  which,  though  commonly  known,  was  yet 
not  so  patent  as  to  come  to  her  notice  without  special 
obtrusion.  Pressley  found  a  great  satisfaction  in  this 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  197 

conception  which  left  Bertha's  character  as  fair  as 
before.  In  his  reply  to  her,  therefore,  he  relieved  her 
of  any  odium  in  this  respect  with  the  most  gracious 
phrases  he  could  construct,  while  at  the  same  time 
reiterating  his  conviction  of  the  main  fact,  on  account 
of  which  he  declared  any  thought  of  marriage  must  be 
abandoned. 

By  Bertha  this  was  interpreted  as  but  offering  a 
disingenuous  compromise  to  her  feelings,  and  in  her 
mind  she  could  not  allow  to  Pressley  the  full  integrity 
which  he  had  ended  by  conceding  to  her,  for  she 
believed  that  Jim  was  fickle  and,  moreover,  not  without 
malevolence  in  resorting  to  so  offensive  a  subterfuge 
to  cover  his  inconstancy. 

And  it  was  what  Pressley  had  first  learned  from 
Gassier!  So,  then,  he  had  been  discussing  her  and  her 
family  with  the  vagabond  shoemaker,  whom  he  knew 
she  despised,  and  had  received  from  him  a  calumny  of 
her  that  he,  a  lover,  had  nursed  and  fostered  hi  secret 
and  finally  adopted  for  his  own!  And  this  man,  for 
whom  she  had  always  felt  a  strong  aversion  without 
knowing  exactly  why,  was  become  the  author  of  her 
present  great  misfortune!  He  was  now  developed  in 
her  mind  to  something  like  an  evil  genius. 

A  notion  this  was  which  in  a  few  days  there  was 
some  reason  to  consider  confirmed,  for  Gassier  had 
again  migrated  back  to  the  neighborhood,  and,  following 
her  one  evening  out  of  the  postoffice  near  which  was 
his  little  shop,  he  said  to  her: 

"Noticed  ye  goin'  home  the  other  night  with  a 


198  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

letter  and  cryin'.  Makes  me  feel  awful  bad  to  see  ye 
cryin'.  Thought  maybe  it  was  your  feller.  Must 
remember  there  hain't  no  feller  in  the  world  worth 
cryin'  over.  If  ever  ye  get  into  any  trouble  and  I  can 
do  the  least  thing  fer  ye,  be  sure  to  let  me  know." 

While  he  was  speaking,  Bertha  was  untying  her 
horse  and  preparing  to  mount,  and  did  not  look  around, 
but  as  he  finished  she  turned  and  said  angrily: 

"  I  don't  thank  you  for  any  curiosity  or  concern  you 
have  about  my  affairs,  Mr.  Gassier." 

"  Oh,  don't  be  mad  at  me,"  said  he.  "  I'm  the  best 
friend  ye  got." 

Bertha  had  mounted  and  was  riding  away.  She 
made  no  reply,  but  gave  the  pony  the  whip. 

"I  'low  that  old  granddaddy's  tryin'  to  shine  up 
to  that  girl,"  said  one  man  to  another  in  a  little  gi'oup 
under  a  tree. 

There  was  really  a  tenderness  in  Gassler's  first  re- 
marks to  Bertha  and  a  tone  of  genuine  coaxing  in  the 
last,  but  in  his  words  the  girl  heard  only  meddling 
impudence  and  taunt. 

"After  all  that,"  thought  she,  "he  is  mean  and 
brazen  enough  to  try  to  get  me  to  say  something  from 
which  he  might  judge  whether  his  slander  had  borne 
fruit  or  not." 

It  was  not  long  before  the  curiosity  of  certain  ones 
in  the  neighborhood  carried  them  so  far  as  to  embolden 
them  to  attempt  to  learn  directly  from  the  Garrett 
family  the  cause  of  Bertha's  weeping  on  horseback 
with  a  letter  in  her  hand.  Reports  of  Pressley's  at- 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  199 

tentions  to  Bertha  had  given  rise  to  some  gossip  in 
the  community,  but  it  was  of  a  languid  sort  inasmuch 
as  it  was  based  on  information  from  which  no  important 
inferences  could  be  well  drawn;  but  this  little  scrap  of 
evidence,  confirming  the  rumors  of  an  engagement  by 
announcing  its  peril  or  rupture,  set  many  tongues  to 
a  welcome  exercise.  Evidence,  certainly,  for  what  but 
lover's  letter  can  make  a  young  lady  of  eighteen  weep? 

In  a  few  days  Mrs.  Anthony  heard  the  news  and 
immediately  hurried  herself  to  the  Old  Plantation  to 
express  to  Mrs.  Garrett  her  concern  lest  the  family  had 
received  bad  tidings,  and,  in  this  event,  to  ask  if  she 
could  be  of  any  possible  service.  But  Mrs.  Garrett 
could  only  show  her  surprise,  not  having  heard  of  the 
weeping  until  now. 

"Oh,  well,  then,  'twas  no  bad  news  from  any  of  the 
folks,"  said  Mrs.  Anthony,  pretending  to  feel  relieved. 
"Jest  somethin'  on  Bertha's  account,  and  couldn't 
have  been  anything  much  or  she'd  have  mentioned  it." 

Just  then  Mrs.  Anthony  took  new  hope,  for  Bertha 
came  in,  and  the  old  lady  again  explained  the  object 
of  her  visit. 

Bertha  affected  to  be  astonished.  Been  seen  crying 
while  holding  a  letter?  She  couldn't  understand  it. 
Might,  of  course,  have  been  rubbing  dust  from  her  eyes. 

And  Mrs.  Anthony  went  away,  greatly  disappointed, 
to  inquire  from  "Shiftless"  at  the  supper  table  more 
particularly  about  the  preciseness  of  his  information, 
and  to  be  assured  that  it  was  tears,  not  dust,  that 
Bertha  had  wiped  from  her  eyes. 


200  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"Shiftless"  now  took  the  matter  in  hand,  and 
luckily  Mr.  Garrett  had  engaged  him  to  do  some 
mending  of  the  fences  the  very  next  day,  when  he  had 
an  opportunity  of  speaking  to  Bertha  in  the  most 
informal  and  familiar  way.  She  had  stepped  across 
the  yard  to  watch  him  for  a  few  minutes  at  his  work. 

"Whath  thith  I  hear  about  you,  Bertha?"  said  he. 
"Havin'  trouble  with  your  feller  already?" 

"  Did  you  hear  I  was  having  trouble  with  some  one?  " 
she  asked  listlessly. 

"Well,  next  thing  to  it,"  he  replied.  "Cryin'  over 
a  letter  he  thent  you." 

"  You  know,  then,  the  letter  was  from  him?  " 

"Well,  I  'low  mutht  ha'  been  from  him  or  you 
wouldn't  ha'  been  cryin'  over  it." 

"  Sure  I  was  crying?  " 

"  Oh,  I  reckon  you'll  deny  the  hull  thing,  but  I  'low 
there  ith  something  right  smart  in  it,  and  I  don't  care, 
'cauthe  if  Prethley  ithn't  the  feller,  it'll  be  some  one 
nearder  to  home  'at  will  make  you  probably  a  better 
huthband.  When  it  cometh  to  marryin'  you  couldn't 
do  better  'n  to  take  thome  feller  'at  don't  put  on  any 
airs  or  pretenthion,  but  'th  knowed  you  all  your  life." 

Bertha  was  laughing  for  the  first  time  in  several 
days,  and  "  Shiftless  "  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  seemed 
vexed  by  her.  He  reddened,  drove  a  nail  wrong  and 
said: 

"What  I  thay  ith  tho,  Bertha." 

But  he  got  from  her  no  word  by  which  he  might 
in  the  least  degree  confirm  the  hope  of  an  estrangement. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  201 

In  the  next  week  or  ten  days  a  few  others  threw  out 
"feelers,"  all  of  them  to  Mr.  Garrett,  as  they  chanced 
to  meet  him,  and  always  with  the  excuse  that  they  had 
heard  a  report  that  bad  news  had  come  from  one  of 
the  boys.  Mr.  Garrett  assured  them  all  that  there 
was  no  foundation  for  the  apprehension  that  ill-fortune 
had  arrived  from  any  quarter  to  any  member  of  the 
family. 

Nevertheless  the  conjecture  prevailed  in  the  com- 
munity that  Bertha  had  been  a  party  to  a  lover's 
quarrel,  for,  the  essential  data  having  been  resolved 
and  digested,  several  points  were  established : 

Bertha  and  Pressley  had  been  fond  of  each  other  in 
the  spring  at  school. 

He  had  visited  her  later  at  her  home. 

The  postmaster  attested  that  she  received  a  letter 
addressed  with  a  man's  hand  from  a  town  in  Iowa. 

Bertha  was  seen  crying  while  reading  this  letter. 

She  had  the  next  day  mailed  a  letter  to  Pressley 
in  Iowa. 

She  received  before  long  another  letter  from  the 
Iowa  town,  no  doubt  in  response,  and  none  since. 

And  it  was  plain  that  a  deep  trouble  was  in  her  heart. 

It  was  true  that  her  buoyancy  and  gaiety  had  van- 
ished and  given  place  to  a  seriousness  through  which 
could  be  observed  frequently  the  melancholy  on  which 
it  was  based.  It  was  as  if  a  sunny  landscape  had  be- 
come beclouded  or,  rather,  laid  waste.  None  of  her 
formerly  engaging  faculties  were  in  vigor.  No  flowers 
of  grace  were  blooming.  When  she  went  out  on  her 


202 


pony  she  did  not  go  galloping  over  the  neighborhood 
highways  to  draw  up  at  front  gates  here  and  there  and, 
with  a  merry  cry,  call  out  girl  friends  for  a  chat,  or 
pitch  over  the  fence  some  informal  salutation  to  a 
family  group. 

Rather,  for  her  now  infrequent  journeys  on  horse- 
back, would  she  choose  the  road  by  the  river  where, 
if  she  met  people,  they  were  as  likely  as  not  to  be 
strangers,  or  she  would  confine  her  equestrian  exercise 
to  the  fieldside  roadways  within  the  borders  of  the 
home  acres.  She  gave  up  going  to  the  postoffice,  for 
in  the  window  of  the  cobbler's  shop  or  at  its  door  she 
was  sure  to  see  the  unwelcome  face  of  Gassier  if  she 
did  not  squarely  encounter  his  whole  form  and  figure 
between  dismounting  and  remounting. 

Acquaintances  of  Bertha's  own  age,  who  made 
friendly  calls,  soon  marked  the  absence  of  her  whole- 
some and  contagious  vivacity  and  discovered  her 
listless  on  the  whole  range  of  topics  commonly  coming 
up  at  such  interviews. 

And  likewise  Bertha's  habits  changed  toward 
members  of  her  own  family.  Heretofore  Abner 
Garrett's  horse  had  often  been  beside  her  own  on  the 
short  excursions  in  the  saddle,  but  now  it  was  never 
seen  there,  nor  did  the  gray-haired  man  and  the  bloom- 
ing girl  now  engage  in  various  lawn  sports  or  mere 
wanton  child's  play,  as  they  had  not  infrequently 
done  of  yore. 

The  girl  never  spoke  to  Mr.  Garrett  about  her  heart- 
ache after  telling  him  the  contents  of  Pressley's  second 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  203 

letter.  She  preferred  to  let  the  trouble  be  her  own, 
especially  since  it  could  not  be  mended  by  intervention, 
sympathy  or  counsel,  and  Mr.  Garrett  seemed  to  think 
it  was  better  so.  Yet  he  little  suspected  the  nature  of 
some  of  the  thoughts  that  occasionally,  as  time  passed 
on,  arose  in  Bertha's  mind.  They  were,  indeed,  of  the 
purport  that,  after  all,  Pressley  might  be  right.  And 
if  he  were,  then  she  had  been  the  victim  since  her 
infancy,  as  she  expressed  it  to  herself,  of  a  parental 
policy  of  secrecy  and  even  of  deceit.  But  could  this 
be  from  the  tenderest  of  fathers,  who  had  been  her 
mentor,  her  companion  and  her  confidant  at  all  the 
ages  of  her  life? 

It  was  hard  for  her  to  harbor  this  thought,  but  come 
it  would.  It  was  sometimes  this  which  impelled  her 
to  resist  when  Mr.  Garrett,  for  her  much-needed  diver- 
sion, sought  to  coax  her  into  a  frolic  of  some  sort  in 
the  yard  or  into  the  playing  of  some  simple  game,  and 
he  sometimes  found  her  eyes  resting  upon  him  with 
such  a  look  of  scrutiny  and  inquiry  as  would  make 
him  wince.  To  him  it  was  a  thousand  times  worse 
than  it  ordinarily  is  to  a  parent  when  he  finds  that  his 
child,  of  whatever  age,  is  intent  on  reading  him  deeper 
than  he  has  been  willing  to  open  the  book. 

At  such  times  Mr.  Garrett  would  forthwith  find 
solitude  to  wonder  at  the  strangeness  of  the  girl,  and 
engage  in  gloomy  reflection.  He  was  not  indifferent  to 
the  trial  that  was  upon  her.  Indeed,  if  both  hearts 
could  have  been  looked  into  it  might  have  been  hard 
to  tell  which  of  these  two  persons  was  grieving  most, 


204  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

she  as  the  direct  sufferer,  or  he  on  her  account.  But 
it  was  to  her  the  first  and,  so  far,  the  only  great  sorrow. 
It  was  to  him  but  one  more  added  to  many  sorrows. 

If  Bertha  had  this  questioning  in  her  mind  it  may 
be  readily  imagined  that  Mrs.  Garrett  became  the 
subject  of  her  most  anxious  consideration.  Loving  her 
fondly,  Bertha  felt  some  sense  of  unfaithfulness  and 
wrong-doing  in  trying  the  experiment  of  looking  at 
her  through  Pressley's  eyes,  but  she  could  not  refrain, 
and  sometimes  she  would  turn  and  hurry  away  in  a 
fright,  believing  she  saw  what  Pressley  believed  he 
had  seen.  The  effect  upon  her  was  as  if  she  had 
witnessed  some  sorcery  that  had  made  beloved  features 
repugnant;  that  had  spirited  away  her  mother  and  set 
some  gross  travesty  in  the  place  of  her.  Then  would 
the  poor  girl,  following  the  uncertain  impulses  of  her 
confused  heart,  feel  that  she  had  sinned  a  great  sin 
and  break  into  tears.  Repentance  and  self-correction 
would  soon  ensue.  The  illusion  would  be  banished 
and  there  again  was  just  the  same  simple,  constant, 
darling,  motherly  mother  as  ever. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"A  MINISTER'S  WOOING." 

BERTHA  had  often  thought  over  every  detail  of 
Pressley's  visit  at  her  home,  and  now  at  last  she  be- 
lieved she  had  discovered  the  secret  of  his  strange 
behavior  in  the  early  part  of  that  day.  It  was  the 
physical  appearance  of  her  mother.  This  was  the 
confirmation  by  personal  observation  that  Pressley 
meant.  She  went  to  the  parlor,  opened  the  big  album 
and  looked  at  the  photographs  of  Walter  and  Dan  to 
see  if  the  view  would  create  any  new  impression,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  was  struck  by  the 
difference  in  their  features.  It  seemed  so  fundamental 
as  almost  to  deny  that  they  were  brothers,  and  at  this 
moment  she  was  conscious  that,  like  Jim,  she  looked 
with  more  favor  upon  the  face  of  Dan  than  upon  that 
of  Walter.  But  the  preference  was  strange  to  her, 
and  seemed  evil,  and  she  loathed  and  strove  to  belie  it. 

However,  these  hours  when  Bertha  completely 
yielded  the  argument  to  Jim  were  not  constant.  They 
were  but  occasional.  When  they  came  they  brought 
with  them  a  large  if  not  a  full  measure  of  vindication 
in  her  sore  heart  for  Jim.  She  could  then  concede 
that  a  powerful  motive  had  impelled  him  to  wreck  the 
beautiful  fabric  their  two  hearts  had  wrought,  and 
could  understand  how  bitter  must  have  been  the 

205 


206  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

strivings  in  his  mind  before  the  blow  of  ruin  was 
struck.  She  could  even  sympathize  with  him  in  his 
struggle,  and,  all  fault  being  removed  from  him  and 
laid  on  necessity,  she  was  fully  in  love  with  him  again. 

Then  would  follow  an  alternate  and  far  longer 
period  of  reaction,  with  Bertha  penitent  and  remorseful 
for  having  been  a  traitress,  as  she  felt,  to  parental  and 
fraternal  affection,  to  family  pride  and  dignity.  At 
such  times  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Garrett,  but  especially  the 
latter,  would  be  surprised  at  the  multitude  of  filial 
kindnesses  on  Bertha's  part,  and  Walter,  in  these  sea- 
sons, always  received  so  many  letters  from  his  "little 
sister"  that  really  he  could  not  find  time  to  answer 
them. 

Mrs.  Garrett,  who  had  not  at  any  time  been  taken 
into  confidence  respecting  this  important  matter,  and, 
left  only  to  a  mother's  usually  shrewd  conjectures  in 
such  cases,  made  no  mistake  except  in  estimating  the 
depth  of  the  attachment  that  existed,  or  had  existed, 
between  Bertha  and  Pressley.  She  was  perhaps  dis- 
qualified by  nature  from  doing  so. 

Without  authority  from  Bertha,  and  with  Mr. 
Garrett  pretending  that  he  had  no  more  knowledge 
than  she,  Mrs.  Garrett  had  not  assumed  that  the 
mutual  attraction  had  matured  into  an  engagement, 
and  now  that  disaster  was  evident  she  chose  to  regard 
the  whole  matter  as  no  more  serious  than  a  school-boy 
and  school-girl  affair.  Sometimes,  therefore,  when  she 
noticed  that  Bertha  was  unusually  sad  or  preoccupied 
she  would  say  to  her : 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  207 

"I'm  afraid  yo'  bein'  foolish  again  ovah  that  boy 
Pressley." 

"Oh,  Pressley's  nothing,  mamma,"  Bertha  would 
answer. 

"Well,  I  wish  you  thought  so  all  the  time,"  would 
be  the  response  as  Mrs.  Garrett  looked  at  her  with  an 
air  of  mild  reproach. 

And  half -blind,  half -deaf,  diligent  Old  Maggie — 
how  had  she  seen  or  heard  the  secret  of  Bertha's 
trouble?  Or  from  her  imperfect  observation  of  the 
girl's  behavior  had  she  simply  divined  it?  For  it  was 
evident  that  she  knew  it  well,  and  it  was  in  the  secluded 
heart  of  this  plain  creature,  partly  cut  off  from  ordinary 
communication  with  others,  that  the  only  full,  un- 
bounded sympathy  for  Bertha  lay. 

This  showed  itself  in  simple  and  quiet  ways.  Never 
had  Old  Maggie,  though  always  neat  and  precise,  been 
so  particular  about  the  care  of  Bertha's  room.  Never 
were  the  bedclothes  so  softly  laid,  the  pillows  so  plump 
with  yielding  balm.  If  Bertha's  rubbers  got  muddy 
and  were  laid  off  even  for  but  a  short  while,  lo!  they 
were  clean  again.  The  girl  found  her  favorite  dishes 
coming  with  unwonted  frequency  but  with  well- 
managed  rotation  to  the  table. 

Sometimes,  when  Bertha  was  about  to  undertake 
some  common,  menial  task,  Old  Maggie  would  offer  to 
relieve  her,  and  when,  as  occasionally  happened,  Old 
Maggie  combed  and  brushed  the  young  lady's  hair, 
her  hand  was  as  careful  as  a  mother's  dressing  a  baby's 
curls.  In  short,  she  treated  her,  so  far  as  she  min- 


208  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

istered  to  her,  with  the  extraordinary  tenderness 
commonly  accorded  to  the  ill.  Now  and  then,  after 
putting  Bertha's  room  in  order,  she  would  set  a  little 
bouquet  on  the  table. 

"Brother  Charlie"  had  been  quick  to  learn  all  that 
the  neighborhood  knew  about  Miss  Bertha,  her  letters 
and  her  tears.  Indeed,  many  of  the  women  of  his 
flock  on  this  side  the  river,  who  had  expected  to  have 
the  joy  of  imparting  to  him  his  original  information  on 
this  engaging  theme,  were  disappointed  and  mortified 
at  the  frequency  with  which  he  said  "So  I  have 
heard  "  as  the  details  were  delivered. 

On  coming  to  fill  his  first  regular  monthly  appoint- 
ment after  this  gossip  arose  he  had  at  once  an  interview 
with  Gassier,  and  he  forthwith  determined  that  another 
season  of  pastoral  visitation  was  immediately  required. 

It  was  observed  that  on  the  occasion  of  this  interview 
the  preacher  remained  a  long  while  in  the  cobbler's 
shop.  It  was  supposed  by  the  few  whose  errands  to 
the  postoffice  gave  them  a  knowledge  of  it  that  the 
faithful  minister  was  now  giving  Sinner  Gassier  "a 
good  one,"  and  one  or  two  pious  persons  offered  mental 
prayers  that  the  quick-tempered  and  profanity-prone 
shoemaker  might  be  moved.  Some  who  passed  by 
noticed  that  the  conversation  was  in  a  low  tone  and 
so  earnest  that  now  and  then  Gassier  stopped  work 
and  shook  his  awl,  his  knife  or  his  hammer  in  "  Brother 
Charlie's"  face.  As  the  latter  did  not  draw  back,  it 
was  supposed  that  these  gestures  stopped  at  being 
emphatic  and  did  not  go  on  to  become  really  menacing. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  209 

It  was  well  recognized  that  Gassler's  singing  at 
Sunday  school  was  with  an  unconsecrated  voice  and 
with  only  a  profane  love  of  song,  and  that  he  was  on 
the  whole  a  tough  block  for  an  evangelist. 

But  the  preacher  was  not  seeking  to  Convert  him. 
The  sole  theme  of  their  discussion  was  Bertha,  and 
when  their  talk  was  ended  the  preacher  got  on  his 
horse  and  rode  to  the  Old  Plantation,  having  a  notion 
that  Bertha's  heart  might  now,  torn  and  broken,  more 
readily  admit  him  than  heretofore,  and  answering  a 
feeble  remonstrance  of  conscience  with  the  adage  that 
all  is  fair  in  love  and  war. 

"Brother  Charlie,"  without  much  real  expense  of 
wit  for  jokes,  had  secured  a  reputation  for  being  "full 
of  fun,"  and  at  once  on  meeting  the  family  at  the  old 
Plantation  he  undertook  some  verbal  sport.  Bertha 
gave  him  kind  for  kind,  as  in  former  times,  putting  the 
smiles  and  laughter  in  the  figurative  brackets  set  up 
for  them  in  the  lively  exchange  of  pleasantry.  The 
preacher  had  been  told  that  the  girl  had  not  been  seen 
to  smile  for  a  month,  and  he  was  delighted  with  the 
conclusion  that  his  presence  was  most  welcome  to  her. 
He  had  had  no  hope  of  beginning  his  visit  under  such 
propitious  auspices. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Garrett  were  likewise  astonished  and 
pleased,  and  immensely  increased  the  preacher's  joy 
by  uniting  in  saying  that  whereas,  for  some  reason, 
Bertha  had  been  acting  very  soberly  this  summer, 
"Brother  Charlie"  seemed  to  have  brought  her  to 
herself  again. 


210  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

It  was  with  great  pleasure  that  Mrs.  Garrett  learned 
from  her  husband  several  weeks  previously  that 
"Brother  Charlie"  had  proposed  to  Bertha.  Mrs. 
Garrett  had  the  notion,  that  was  still  quite  prevalent 
among  devout  people  a  generation  or  two  ago,  that 
ministers  of  the  gospel  stood  close  to  angels  and  that, 
as  the  latter  were  not  eligible  for  husbands,  preachers 
were  next  best.  The  girl  who  married  a  minister  might 
forego  alluring  temporal  prospects,  but  was  more  than 
compensated  by  intimate  companionship  with  one  in 
a  holy  calling. 

Though  Abner  Garrett  justly  rated  the  ministry  the 
noblest  profession  in  the  world,  he  was  yet  of  such  a 
disposition  as  that  in  giving  a  daughter  in  marriage 
he  would,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  attach  very 
great  importance  to  the  merely  temporal  qualifications 
of  the  prospective  husband,  like  family  connections, 
social  position  and  prosperity;  yet,  as  suggested  in  a 
previous  chapter,  he  seemed  to  have  peculiar  reasons 
for  desiring  that  Bertha  should  meet  the  preacher's 
advances.  So  he  and  his  wife  contrived,  with  one 
excuse  and  another,  that  Bertha  and  "  Brother  Charlie  " 
should  be  left  alone  together  the  greater  part  of  the 
evening.  The  young  preacher  prided  himself  on  his 
facility  in  throwing  off  ministerial  dignity — unbending, 
he  called  it — and  only  once  in  the  evening  did  he  fall 
into  the  style  of  the  parson.  This  was  when  he  thought 
a  fine  opening  had  presented  itself  for  a  telling  expa- 
tiation  on  the  wonderful  opportunities  for  doing  good 
possessed  by  a  minister's  wife. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  211 

Bertha  responded  by  an  expression  of  pity  for  the 
being  so  fortunately  situated  and  treating  the  whole 
subject  with  flippant  irony. 

"  Brother  Charlie  "  had  been  getting  so  certain  that 
Bertha,  pushed  from  Pressley's  arms,  was  now  ready  to 
fly  to  his,  that  he  was  about  to  break  the  resolution  with 
which  he  came  to  the  house  and  speak  to  her  directly 
on  the  matter,  but  her  latter  remarks  disquieted  and 
disturbed  him.  He  decided  to  further  test  his  ground 
a  little. 

"What  is  the  latest  word  about  your  friend,  Mr. 
Pressley?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  Jim  is  spending  his  vacation  in  Iowa,"  Bertha 
replied,  "and  is  having  a  splendid  time.  I  hear  from 
him.  He  writes  very  interesting  letters  from  there." 

This  was  painfully  perplexing  to  "  Brother  Charlie." 

Mr.  Garrett,  approaching  from  the  lawn,  where  he 
had  been  musing,  heard  it,  too,  and  observed  with 
regret,  but  yet  with  admiration,  that  Bertha  was 
something  of  a  strategist.  When  he  had  sat  down, 
the  girl,  breaking  under  the  strain  of  the  part  she  had 
been  playing,  hurried  to  her  room  and  sobbed  herself 
to  sleep. 

The  next  morning  Bertha  was  apparently  as  gay  as 
the  traditional  lark  and  fully  ready,  as  on  the  previous 
evening,  to  meet  the  preacher  at  badinage;  observing 
the  change  in  her  behavior  Old  Maggie  was  mani- 
festly delighted,  and  flitted  to  and  fro  and  about  the 
breakfast  table  so  lightly  and  so  cheerily  that  the  family 
were  surprised,  for  none  of  them  had  realized  how 


212  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

much  she  knew  of  Bertha's  heart  or  how  much  her 
own  had  suffered  on  account  of  the  girl's  disap- 
pointment. 

Nor  did  Bertha  seek  to  circumvent  the  parental 
plan  that  she  and  "Brother  Charlie"  should  be  com- 
panions afoot  up  through  the  woodside  pasture  to 
church,  where  the  pastor  in  his  discourse  said  "Je- 
rooz-alum"  many  times  with  all  the  unction  he  could 
muster.  He  returned  with  the  Garretts  for  dinner, 
but  soon  thereafter  saddled  his  horse  and  went  directly 
for  a  further  interview  with  Gassier  to  verify  his  infor- 
mation concerning  the  recent  history  and  deportment 
of  the  belle  of  the  Old  Plantation. 

He  made  several  visits  to  the  Garrett  home  later  in 
the  season,  sometimes  in  mid-week,  and  on  each  occa- 
sion Bertha  affected  an  air  of  contentment  and  light- 
heartedness  to  receive  him,  yet  he  knew  that  this  was 
but  a  cloak  worn  while  he  was  being  entertained,  and, 
realizing  that  she  was  seeking  to  deceive  him  regarding 
the  lay  of  the  ground,  he  felt  that  his  advances  should 
be  most  cautious,  and  that  for  the  time  being  he  should 
rely  on  his  mere  manner  and  general  conversation, 
rather  than  on  any  pointed  words,  to  further  his 
progress. 

And  so  the  summer  passed.  The  only  real  diversion 
Bertha  had  was  when,  on  several  occasions — too  rare, 
indeed — "  Shiftless  "  would  ask  her  if  it  was  not  about 
time  she  "wath  having  another  feller,  thome  feller 
who  really  knowed  her  and  who  she  really  knowed." 
He  did  not  allow  that  the  preacher  really  knew  her. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  213 

This  would  furnish  Bertha  with  material  for  laughter 
that,  as  memory  drew  on  it  every  hour  or  two,  would 
sometimes  last  a  whole  day.  So  acceptable,  so  re- 
storative was  it  that  the  girl  more  than  once  sought, 
when  convenient,  a  renewal  of  the  supply.  "  Shiftless  " 
was  always  ready  with  this  bounty,  but,  constituted 
by  nature  for  extremely  deliberate  motions,  he  besides 
held  the  doctrine  that  one  should  never  proceed  so 
slowly  as  when  in  love,  and  he  never  allowed  his  passion 
to  become  so  impetuous  as  to  hasten  him. 

All  told,  though  she  had  been  abruptly  and  rudely 
repelled,  Bertha  could  not  move  her  heart,  as,  indeed, 
she  at  last  wilfully  tried  to  do,  away  from  Pressley. 
He  entered  many  of  her  night  dreams,  some  of  which 
were  so  joyful  that  her  heart  ached  the  more  on  wak- 
ing to  find  them  but  dreams;  some  so  grievous  with 
the  waking  trouble  in  them  that  a  flood  of  real  tears 
would  awake  her. 

Often  she  found  herself  wishing  she  might  get  a 
letter  from  Jim  saying  he  might  be  mistaken,  and, 
whether  or  no,  that  he  would  cleave  unto  her  forever. 

As  for  Pressley,  he  had  his  continuing  agony,  too. 
His  friends  in  Iowa  thought  he  had  changed  much  in 
the  short  time  he  had  been  in  Indiana.  They  were 
surprised  that  the  rollicking,  fun-loving  boy  had 
developed  into  so  sober,  not  to  say  gloomy,  a  young 
man. 

Many  a  time  he  fought  the  whole  battle  over,  and 
always  to  the  same  stern  issue,  against  the  acceptance 
of  which,  however,  though  his  judgment  did  not  relent 


214  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

in  commanding  it,  his  affections  were  always  in  re- 
bellion. He  longed  for  some  means  of  circumvention. 
If  she  were  only  Abner  Garrett's  daughter  and  not 
Mrs.  Garrett's  as  well!  If  she  only  were  an  adopted 
child,  daughter  of  anybody!  Or  if  he  might  take  her 
far  away  where  nobody  knew  about  her,  and  abide 
with  her  there  1 

In  the  autumn  a  grief  more  easily  understood  by 
the  common  mind  than  the  woe  of  a  heart  bruised  at 
love,  and  one  eliciting  a  sympathy  unmixed  with  jest, 
fell  upon  the  whole  household  at  the  Old  Plantation, 
for  the  word  came  that  Walter  had  died  of  yellow 
fever  in  New  Orleans  under  unusual  and  mysterious 
circumstances. 

His  wife  had  been  stricken,  and  while  suffering  with 
this  dreadful  malady  was  forced  to  undergo  the  added 
jeopardy  involved  in  bringing  a  child  into  the  world. 
Her  peril  was  extreme  and  in  proportion  was  the  anxiety 
of  her  husband.  She  was  soon  convalescent  from  her 
double  illness,  and  it  was  reported  as  the  conjecture 
of  the  physician  that  only  in  the  danger  attending  the 
production  of  a  new  life  were  the  conditions  that  had 
so  menacingly  encompassed  her  own  dissolved. 

On  a  sunny  day  Walter  stood  before  the  mantel  in 
his  wife's  room,  peeling  an  orange  for  her,  rejoicing 
that  she  was  increasing  in  strength,  and  glorying  in 
his  first  born. 

And  then,  without  being  touched  by  hand  or  other 
object  and  as  if  by  some  invisible  impulsion,  a  vase 
that  stood  on  the  mantel  at  Walter's  back,  fell  forward 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  215 

and  was  shattered  on  the  tiling  at  his  feet.  Next  day 
he  was  in  the  grip  of  the  fever.  In  a  few  days  came  the 
black  vomit  and  death. 

The  body  could  not  be  brought  north  at  once,  and 
it  was  arranged  that  it  should  lie  in  a  small  vault 
until  the  time  should  expire  within  which  it  could  not 
be  transported. 

Beneath  this  dark  shadow  Bertha  entered  with  other 
members  of  the  family,  and  for  a  time  it  was  almost 
forgotten  that  she  had  a  private  sorrow  all  her  own. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
THE  COMING  OF  THE  DEAD. 

THE  circumstances  surrounding  Walter's  death  and 
the  temporary  disposition  of  his  remains  made  the 
people  of  the  Good  Hope  neighborhood  feel  that  the 
body  was  a  distinguished  corpse. 

For  the  pieces  of  that  shattered  vase  had  rattled 
even  against  Walter's  heels,  and  how  close  he  must 
have  come  to  being  touched  by  the  very  finger  of  God 
or  of  a  demon!  A  sign,  surely,  whether  of  a  power 
good  or  bad,  had  been  wrought  over  him,  while  yet  he 
lived,  to  mark  him  for  the  sudden  and  awful  death 
that  he  died — a  death  which  so  contaminated  his 
flesh  that  even  the  cold  clay  must  be  hurried  out  of 
sight  lest  it  be  the  curse  of  those  who  might  linger 
over  and  look  upon  it ! 

And  Authority — that  strangely  fabricated  engine 
of  high  civil  potencies  called  Authority — had  had 
reason  to  take  hasty  cognizance  of  this  poor  body, 
wrecked  by  the  agencies  of  a  power  so  malignant  and 
mysterious.  Authority  had  seized  it,  indeed,  while 
yet  it  lay  upon  the  bed  and  when  the  spirit  had  been 
even  but  a  short  time  gone,  and  carried  it  away,  with 
no  time  for  mourning  or  for  tears,  to  a  little  white, 
marble  prison  on  the  city's  edge.  It  had  had  the 
special  attention  of  officers.  It  had  been  dealt  with 

216 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  217 

by  the  city  of  New  Orleans  and  by  the  state  of  Louisiana. 
It  had  been  made  subject  to  laws  and  rules  not  often 
heard  of  near  a  quiet  country  cemetery. 

Therefore  the  Good  Hope  people  felt  that  it  was  no 
common  corpse.  Imagine  all  the  natural  causes  they 
might  for  the  falling  of  the  vase — and  nobody  pre- 
tending to  know  the  facts  had  ever  said  that  a  sudden 
puff  of  wind  did  not  come  in  at  an  open  window  against 
the  frail  vessel  or  that  Walter,  in  the  exuberance  of  his 
spirits  over  his  wife's  recovery,  did  not  lean  back  and 
tip  it,  unknown  to  himself  or  Ida,  with  his  shoulder — 
imagine  as  they  might,  most  of  the  people  had  the 
apprehension  that  some  invisible  hand  pushed  the 
vase  from  the  mantel. 

As  the  day  now  approached  when  this  historic  bit 
of  mortality  was  to  be  released  from  its  low-vaulted 
prison  and  make  a  silent  journey  northward  to  seek 
its  final  rest,  the  pride  of  the  people  around  the  Old 
Plantation  in  the  fact  that  in  their  midst,  in  their  own 
little  graveyard,  was  to  occur  a  burial  about  which 
so  much  might  be  said,  began  to  struggle  with  their 
fear  lest  certain  awful  things  might  also  be  drawing 
near. 

It  was  in  their  minds  that  in  some  way  the  corpse 
was  a  nomad.  They  had  often  imagined  that  that 
white  tomb  in  the  south  was  but  a  tent,  and  now  its 
occupant  was  to  issue  forth,  bound  in  grave-clothes, 
and  come  hitherward.  And  how  singularly  he  was  to 
travel!  As  if  asleep,  yet  moving!  Lying  on  his  back 
with  his  hands  folded  across  his  breast,  yet  constantly 


218  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

coining,  coming!  Always  looking  toward  the  sky,  mak- 
ing no  sign,  and  getting  nearer  and  nearer  every  hour! 
A  mute  and  distressed  wanderer! 

But  this  was  not  the  worst.  Minds  were  startled  at 
the  thought  that  about  the  mortuary  box  there  might 
be  a  subtle,  intangible  odor  which  it  would  be  death  to 
inhale,  or  that  from  the  open  grave,  as  the  mournful 
burden  was  lowered  into  the  earth,  an  invisible  essence 
might  arise  to  poison  the  wholesome  air  with  the 
infection  of  a  plague! 

For  a  whole  month  before  the  body  arrived  were 
told  and  retold  frightful  stories  from  anywhere  of  all 
manner  of  singular  afflictions  and  terrible  deaths. 
Every  home  became  a  hospital  with  a  hundred  imagi- 
nary patients.  It  was  as  if  every  lazar  house  in  the 
world  had  been  called  on  to  contribute  its  most  shocking 
picture  for  the  temporary  contemplation  of  the 
community. 

To  go  the  whole  length  of  making  much  out  of  the 
alleged  danger,  to  carry  the  scare  to  its  last  degree  of 
consistency  and  so  add  something  as  nearly  as  possible 
like  earnestness  to  a  situation  in  which,  after  all,  the 
common  consciousness  recognized  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  pretense,  it  began  to  be  suggested  that  Abner 
Garrett,  in  bringing  the  body  home  for  burial,  was 
putting  the  lives  of  his  neighbors  in  peril.  It  was 
hinted,  too,  as  a  kind  of  corollary,  that  if  people  had  a 
due  regard  for  their  safety  they  would  not  go  near  the 
corpse. 

Meantime  the  hearts  in  the  Garrett  home,  which  had 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  219 

been  fraught  to  crushing  by  the  grievous  intelligence 
flashed  from  the  south  in  the  early  autumn,  and  which 
afterwards  had  lightened  for  a  time,  grew  heavy  again. 
Mr.  Garrett's  paleness,  scarce  gone,  returned.  He  bore 
the  look  of  some  hopeless,  weary  one.  To  him  the 
intervening  time  had  been  like  one  long  vigil  at  the 
bedside  of  the  sick. 

His  intellect  knew  that  his  son  must  be  dead,  but  the 
bad  news  came  from  so  far  away,  and  he  had  not  seen 
the  closed  eyes  and  waxen  face  of  his  boy;  and  his  heart 
would  have  it  most  of  the  time,  something  like  a  half- 
consciousness,  that  Walter  was  half  alive.  Half  alive, 
and  so  the  fearful  father  watched,  willing  to  live  in  a 
dream  and  unwilling  to  wake  from  it  until  Walter  was 
borne  home.  That  would  be  the  real  death  day. 
Walter  should  die  at  home.  The  old  man  often  went 
up  to  what  was  called  the  "  boys'  room,"  unused  now 
and  unfurnished,  and  sat  there  until  chilled. 

One  morning,  a  week  before  the  body  came,  Bertha 
found  him  there.  She  was  startled  at  first  when  his 
white  face  was  turned  full  upon  her,  for  she  had  ex- 
pected when  she  opened  the  door  to  see  only  the  dreary 
emptiness  of  that  now  doubly  cheerless  place.  Mr. 
Garrett  smiled  sadly  as  she  entered,  extended  his  arm 
and  drew  her  into  his  lap. 

"  It  used  to  be  a  cozy  place  before  the  boys  left  home," 
said  he,  "and  I've  had  many  a  good  time  with  them 
up  here.  Now  Walter's  coming  home  again,  and  we 
must  fix  it  up  for  him  just  as  it  was  then.  He  may  not 
occupy  the  bed  nor  sit  in  one  of  the  chairs  nor  look 


220  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

dreamily  into  the  fire  as  he  used  to  do,  but  he'll  see 
the  room;  he'll  see  it  and  he'll  like  it.  He'll  be  glad  to 
get  back.  He'll  be  glad,"  and  Mr.  Garrett's  sad  smile 
turned  into  one  that  was  almost  joyful. 

As  for  Bertha,  she  laid  her  head  upon  his  shoulder 
and  sobbed. 

At  length  she  spoke,  and  said:  "And  yet,  father, 
the  people  are  talking.  They  say  we  ought  not  to 
bring  him  home." 

"What's  that,  my  child,  what's  that?"  asked  Mr. 
Garrett  with  a  look  of  the  utmost  incredulity  in  his  face. 

"  They  say  we  ought  not  to  bring  him  home  because 
it's  dangerous;  that  it  may  cause  yellow  fever  up  here 
or  something  else,  because  he  died  of  such  an  awful 
thing." 

"Do  they  criticize  us  for  doing  it,  for  bringing  our 
own  dear,  dead  son  home  so  that  he  may  lie  near  us 
and  we  may  visit  his  grave?  " 

"Yes,  they  say  we  ought  not  to  do  it,  at  least  for  a 
year  or  two." 

The  old  man's  face  at  this  moment  was  pitiful  to  see. 
It  was  like  the  room  in  which  he  sat,  cold,  dismantled, 
reflecting  its  suggestion  of  sorrow  and  of  the  hopeless 
finality  of  those  events  that  separated  the  dismal 
present  from  the  happier  past.  The  clouds  had  become 
just  a  little  thicker  and  it  was  raining  just  a  little  harder 
in  the  old  man's  heart.  He  stared  at  the  small  fire- 
place, the  empty  bed  frame  and  the  bare  walls. 

"  Reproached  by  my  neighbors,"  said  he  slowly  and 
but  half -audibly,  "for  bringing  him  home — a  year  or 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  221 

two  yet — they  think  I'm  bound  to  do  it  even  if  it 
should  spread  a  pestilence  among  them — how  could 
they  think  that? — think  me  so  selfish  in  my  sorrow  or 
in  my  affection  as  to  put  them  to  such  a  risk  as  that? 

"Whom  did  you  hear  speak  of  it?"  he  asked,  raising 
his  voice. 

"  Henry  said  he  had  heard  a  good  many  talking  about 
it,"  answered  Bertha. 

"Well,  they  must  know  it's  perfectly  safe,"  said  Mr. 
Garrett  in  an  assuring  tone,  but  he  himself  was  not 
assured  that  they  did  know,  and  he  felt  pained  as  with 
a  dart  at  the  imputation  the  vain  gossip  implied. 

Then  he  spoke  again  about  fitting  up  the  room,  and 
seemed  presently  to  forget  the  distressing  report  that 
he  had  just  heard,  for  his  eyes  brightened,  pleasant 
smiles  came  once  more  and  his  voice  showed  a  glad 
interest  as  he  discussed  with  Bertha  what  it  would  be 
necessary  to  do  to  furnish  the  room  just  as  nearly  as 
possible  as  it  was  when  years  before  it  had  been  the 
headquarters  of  the  boys,  a  favorite  resort  of  their 
father's  and  a  place,  oh,  so  high  up  but  always  so  inter- 
esting that  it  never  failed  to  well  repay  the  little  tot 
Bertha  for  the  pains  and  endeavor  of  her  clambering 
pilgrimage. 

And  Bertha,  too,  grew  animated  and  almost  cheerful 
over  the  undertaking  to  rehabilitate  this  old  and,  since 
many  years,  lonely  corner. 

They  determined  to  commence  it  that  very  day. 
They  went  down  stairs.  When  they  informed  Mrs. 
Garrett  of  their  plan  she  had  the  appearance  of  one 


222  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

who  is  in  the  presence  of  strange  beings.  The  moment 
the  announcement  was  made  she  looked  at  her  husband 
and  at  Bertha  as  if  she  were  afraid  of  them,  and  indeed 
she  was. 

The  very  thought  of  acting  as  if  Walter  were  alive, 
of  preparing  to  receive  him  as  if  he  were  to  come 
walking  in  the  flesh,  with  buoyant  step  and  beaming  face, 
struck  the  poor  woman  as  so  unnatural  that  she  could 
have  been  scarcely  less  dumbfounded  and  bewildered 
had  she  heard  a  voice  from  the  tomb  itself.  Did  they 
expect  that  those  stiff  and  shrivelled  arms  would  grow 
supple  and  embrace  them?  Or  to  hear  a  joyous 
salutation  from  that  closed  mouth  or  receive  a  kiss 
from  those  cold  and  wasted  lips?  To  her  the  conceit 
was  uncanny.  No  thought  of  insanity  entered  her 
head,  but  Mr.  Garrett  and  Bertha  seemed  to  her  to 
have  become  the  spell-bound  messengers  of  the  dead 
and  to  speak  in  the  language  of  shadows. 

She  knew  not  what  to  answer  them,  for  her  simple 
mind  was  filled  with  alarm.  She  was  overcome  by 
the  impression  that  the  mysterious  things  of  the  world 
of  darkness  were  boldly  thrusting  themselves  into  the 
world  of  substance  and  light,  to  confuse  the  dull  senses 
of  common  nature.  The  suspicion  came  to  her  that 
Mr.  Garrett,  on  his  frequent  visits  to  that  upper, 
deserted  chamber,  might  have  strange  communings 
with  their  dead  son  and  that  her  husband's  pallid  face 
and  cold  extremities,  on  coming  down,  might  have 
been  due,  not  alone  to  the  chilly  air,  but  also  to  the 
frigid  touch  of  some  hidden  hand. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  223 

"Why,  mamma,  what's  the  matter?"  asked  Bertha 
as  Mrs.  Garrett  sank  into  a  chair,  still  dazed  and 
speechless. 

"Oh,  it  seems  go  strange  to  do  that,"  replied  the 
troubled  woman,  somewhat  withdrawn  from  her  un- 
earthly vagaries  and  conjectures  by  a  question  showing 
an  interest  so  plainly  human. 

"But  we  want  to  do  something  that  will  seem  to 
welcome  him.  We  don't  want  to  just  sit  and  let  him 
come." 

This  did  not  help  the  situation  for  Mrs.  Garrett,  but 
she  feared  to  express  dissent  though  feeling  that  an 
evil  was  brooding.  So  she  said  no  more,  and  Mr. 
Garrett  and  Bertha  proceeded  with  the  task  they  had 
set  for  themselves.  However,  Mr.  Garrett  had  observed 
that  his  wife  regarded  their  work  as  portentous.  To 
her  the  refurnished  room,  no  matter  how  cheery  and 
inviting  and  home-like  they  might  make  it,  and  perhaps 
all  the  more  in  the  degree  they  made  it  so,  would  be 
filled  with  a  cloud,  and  he  began  with  uneasy  misgivings. 

But  the  forebodings  which  his  wife's  manner  had 
forced  into  his  heart  vanished  a  few  hours  later  when, 
standing  before  a  radiant,  crackling  fire  that  his  own 
hand  had  kindled,  the  mere  fact  that  the  dear  old 
room  was  warm  again  was  a  solace  to  his  spirit. 

The  refurnishing  took  two  days.  It  lightened  the 
melancholy  of  Mr.  Garrett  and  Bertha,  and  the  hoarse 
whistling  of  the  steamboats  as  they  passed  up  the  river 
did  not  seem  so  mournful;  but  Mrs.  Garrett  could  not 
become  reconciled  to  the  proceeding.  There  was  a 


224  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

boldness  or  impiety  about  it,  a  trifling  with  awful 
things,  which  she  felt  must  sooner  or  later  bring  on  a 
judgment.  But  she  said  nothing. 

When  the  neighbors  learned  what  had  been  going 
on  they  shared  Mrs.  Garrett's  feelings.  It  was  some- 
thing they  could  not  understand,  and  magnified  in  a 
welcome  manner  the  general  mystery  with  which  the 
community  was  now  engrossed. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

BITTEN  BY  THE  SILVER  SERPENT. 

THE  burial  was  on  a  Sunday  afternoon  in  February. 
The  people  came  for  miles  around.  The  more  intimate 
acquaintances  of  the  Garretts,  comprising  generally 
the  most  intelligent  families  in  the  vicinity,  were 
moved  by  feelings  in  which  the  desire  to  express  a 
kindly  interest  and  sympathy  was  predominant  over 
less  worthy  sentiments. 

Others  were  actuated  by  curiosity,  which,  though 
commonly  on  such  occasions  it  lacks  positive  virtue 
and  is,  indeed,  likely  to  be  morbid,  could  not  be  regarded 
in  this  instance,  considering  all  that  had  been  said,  as 
very  unnatural.  And  as  curiosity  is  never  less  intru- 
sive than  at  a  funeral  or  where  great  grief  is,  these 
latter  ones  stood  afar  off.  They  grouped  themselves 
out  by  the  gate  or  looked  over  the  shoulders  of  those 
in  advance. 

And  those — a  large  number — in  whom  a  curiosity, 
begotten  by  fear,  was  mingled  with  fear,  and  fear  was 
the  stronger,  avoided  the  house  and  straggled  of 
common  accord  to  the  graveyard  where  they  inspected 
at  their  will  the  open  grave  that  was  soon  to  receive 
a  charge  so  notable,  and  poked  their  toes  into  the  pile 
of  clay  that  presently  was  to  hide  the  object  which 
while  unhidden  was  so  menacing. 

225 


226  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

From  here  they  would  saunter  on  singly  and  in  twos 
and  threes  up  a  gentle  hill  to  the  dingy  little  district 
schoolhouse,  a  hundred  yards  away,  for  the  teacher 
had  come  down,  unlocked  the  door  and  built  a  fire  so 
that  they  might  be  warm  while  waiting. 

Such  a  session  of  school  had  never  been  held  in  that 
room  before.  Such  a  motley  company,  big  and  little, 
black  and  white,  male  and  female,  and  all  how  needing 
instruction!  So,  while  over  at  the  Plantation  home, 
with  strange  horses  gnawing  irreverently  at  the  fence 
boards,  and  the  porches  black  with  men  and  women 
who  could  not  get  inside,  "Brother  Charlie"  was 
reading  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  First  Corinthians  and 
talking  about  New  Orleans  and  New  Je-rooz-alum, 
the  more  timid  people  in  the  schoolhouse  were  at  class 
to  one  another. 

A  noisy  school!  No  order  was  kept.  Teachers 
were  unceremoniously  interrupted.  A  question  asked 
of  one  would  be  answered  by  another  or  by  a  half 
dozen  at  once  in  as  many  different  ways.  There  was 
whispering,  talking  aloud,  changing  of  seats,  going 
out  and  in  doors,  and,  withal,  the  attention  was  con- 
stantly detracted  by  expectancy. 

The  subjects  of  instruction  were  many: 

Why  could  yellow  fever  not  be  carried  in  cold  as 
well  as  in  warm  weather? 

Was  not  its  prevalence  in  the  south  alone  due  simply 
to  chance? 

Why  did  Mr.  Garrett  furnish  Walter's  room  as  if  he 
were  coming  home  alive? 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  227 

Could  not  the  seeds  of  yellow  fever  produce  other  and 
quite  as  terrible  diseases  in  cold  climates? 

The  best  thing  for  croup. 

The  latest  "  diptheory  "  epidemic. 

The  power  of  small  potatoes  to  keep  away 
rheumatism. 

The  horror  hovering  about  a  hearse. 

Had  there  been  cases  of  smallpox  leaving  the  patient 
unmarked? 

Could  it  possibly  be  true  that  Walter's  wife  escaped 
the  yellow  fever  simply  because  she  had  been  lately 
confined? 

The  virtues  of  assafoetida  bags. 

At  length  there  was  a  hush,  for  a  company  of  men 
and  women,  who  had  taken  the  short  cut  afoot  from 
the  house,  were  seen  emerging  from  the  wood  and  en- 
tering the  graveyard.  It  was  a  column  hi  black, 
for  every  wardrobe  and  clothes  chest  had  been  ran- 
sacked and  the  blackest  garments  in  every  house 
were  worn  that  day. 

The  schoolhouse  was  at  once  deserted,  and  its  late 
occupants  moved  down  the  hill  and  climbed  over  the 
fence  into  the  sacred  enclosure  at  the  corner  diagonally 
opposite  to  that  in  which  the  grave  was  dug. 

The  high,  dead  grass  was  surging  to  and  fro  deso- 
lately beneath  the  rude  monuments  there,  and  a  flock 
of  crows  were  cawing  in  a  tree  on  the  edge  of  the  wood 
overlooking  the  scene  when  the  funeral  procession 
came  up. 

First,  "  Brother  Charlie  "  in  a  carriage  by  the  side  of  a 


228  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

person  never  before  seen  in  this  country  place,  Cornelius 
Vaii  of  Madison,  undertaker  and  funeral  director, 
who  had  buried  ten  thousand  people,  tall,  pale  and 
with  white  hair,  as  if  he  had  grown  to  be  like  the  White 
Horse  the  sound  of  whose  hoofs  he  had  followed  so 
long  and  so  closely — a  sufficient  curiosity  in  himself 
to  the  simple  folks  who  regarded  him. 

Then,  that  dread,  solemn,  significant,  black-plumed 
vehicle  that  always  accompanied  him,  drawn  by 
shining  black  horses,  covered,  as  if  their  color  were 
not  enough,  with  black  netting  fringed  with  tiny 
black  tassels.  A  man  always  looking  into  tearful 
eyes,  talking  cruel  business  to  broken  hearts,  getting 
his  orders  out  of  mouths  struck  almost  dumb — a 
vehicle  always  making  a  sad  journey,  carrying  away 
someone's  hope,  leading  sorrowing  ones  as  with  an 
iron  chain  to  where  the  earth  opens — those  gulfs  of 
despair — and  the  dear  form  is  swallowed  up  to  be 
seen  no  more. 

Then,  Abner  Garrett,  who  had  prepared  to  receive 
his  son  as  if  he  were  dive,  supporting  the  young  widow 
who  had  seen  the  vase  fall  at  Walter's  feet  and  on 
whom  herself  had  been  wrought  something  so  like  a 
miracle;  Dan,  the  blonde  hero  of  wave  and  rope  and 
gangplank,  by  the  side  of  his  mother,  the  slave  girl 
once,  the  white-black  woman,  a  reader  of  signs;  Old 
Maggie,  of  singular  history,  stooped,  blind  in  one  eye, 
hard  of  hearing;  Bertha,  a  dew-drenched  flower, 
disappointed  in  love,  the  unhappy  belle  of  the  region. 
And  with  the  family  came  Professor  Bland,  mourning 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  229 

with  those  who  mourned,  halt,  misshapen,  but  with  a 
face  and  head  worthy  of  a  royal  form  and  stature. 
He  had  come  down  from  College  Hill  to  see  his  old 
pupil  laid  away  and  to  attest  his  sympathy  with  his 
old  friends. 

All  these  were  observed  with  an  attentiveness  and 
intensity  that  fell  short  of  a  stare  only  because  the 
mournful  circumstances  imposed  a  sentiment  of  respect 
to  which  even  the  inquisitiveness  and  curiosity  of  the 
untutored  and  uncultivated  minds  of  that  multitude 
yielded. 

"Shiftless  Henry"  was  one  of  the  pallbearers.  It 
was  a  trying  time  for  him.  Mrs.  Garrett  had  over  him 
a  dominion  that  no  other  human  being  possessed. 
He  always  worked  for  her  better  than  for  anyone 
else,  though  this  is  not  saying  a  great  deal.  In  the 
last  eighteen  or  twenty  months  he  had  worked  better 
than  before — a  fact  Bertha  had  noticed  and  laughed 
at.  He  had,  of  course,  heard  the  general  talk  in  the 
neighborhood  for  the  last  month,  but  it  had  not  fright- 
ened him.  Mrs.  Garrett,  he  knew,  had  no  fear  that 
Walter's  corpse  would  bring  contagion,  and  so  he  had 
none.  But  when  he  found  out  Mrs.  Garrett  was 
troubled  about  the  refurnishing  of  Walter's  room  and 
the  fact  that  Mr.  Garrett  slept  in  it  with  a  blazing 
fire  two  nights  before  the  body  came  he  had  creeping 
of  the  flesh.  He  struggled  with  himself.  He  did  his 
best  to  think  that  there  could  be  nothing  wrong  or 
non-human  about  it,  because  Bertha  had  a  part  in  it, 
but  he  could  not  so  ease  his  mind.  Bertha  was  in 


230  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

league  with  Mr.  Garrett,  and  Henry  imagined  in  the 
last  few  days  that  he  could  see  a  strange  light  in  Mr. 
Garrett's  eyes  and  that  his  voice  was  not  natural. 

He  would  not  worry  about  the  seeds  of  pestilence 
or  the  germs  of  disease,  because,  so  far  as  he  knew, 
Mrs.  Garrett  did  not,  but  he  could  never  bear  to  medi- 
tate on  the  subject  of  ghosts  and  had  always  been 
afraid  of  the  dark. 

And  he  could  not  keep  away  from  the  Garrett  home 
now  when  the  family  was  in  bereavement  and  needed 
the  kind  offices  of  friends.  As  an  old  friend  of  the 
family,  a  near  neighbor,  a  boyhood  companion  of 
Walter  and  Dan,  a  patient  and  plodding  aspirant  for 
Bertha's  hand,  he  could  not  absent  himself  even  if 
he  had  not  already  proffered  any  services  that  it  was 
in  his  power  to  render. 

But,  as  he  came  every  day  to  inquire  what  he  might 
do,  he  went  about  the  house  with  fear  and  trembling. 
It  was  worse  after  he  had  assisted  in  bringing  the 
corpse  from  the  wharf,  for  he  had  been  stricken  as  if 
with  palsy  when,  in  handling  the  box,  a  noise  was 
heard  on  the  inside.  Going  home  in  the  evening, 
after  having  been  asked  to  act  as  a  pallbearer  the  com- 
ing Sunday,  he  fancied  he  could  hear  Walter  calling 
him  at  a  distance  in  the  woods.  He  would  have  been 
glad  to  get  a  thousand  miles  away  until  it  was  all  over, 
but,  since  he  was  in  for  it,  he  strove  to  put  on  it  the 
best  face  possible. 

He  would  journey  to  the  postoffice  and  argue  with 
as  many  of  his  acquaintances  as  he  could  engage  in 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  231 

conversation,  whether  they  took  the  opposite  side  or 
not,  that  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  a  ghost. 

"It  ith  thith  way,"  said  he  to  the  postmaster  with 
emphatic  deliberation,  "ath  far  ath  the  body  ith  con- 
therned,  when  a  man  ith  dead  he'th  dead,  and  ath 
for  hith  thpirit,  we  are  taught  in  the  Bible  that  the 
thpirit  of  every  man  goeth  to  Heaven  or  to  Hell, 
and  wunth  there,  it  thtayth." 

This  was  supplemented  by  a  reference  to  the  Spirit- 
ualists, many  of  them  men  of  the  most  acute  sort,  in 
Henry's  opinion,  who  would  be  able,  if  any  men  were, 
to  hold  communication  with  departed  souls;  but  all 
of  them,  he  declared,  had  failed,  and,  as  for  spirit- 
ualistic seances,  he  was  convinced  that  there  never 
was  one  that  was  not  a  humbug.  They  might  be  puz- 
zling for  a  time  but  were  always  finally  "  ekthploded." 

Neither  did  he  lose  sight  of  the  proposition  that 
shadow  cannot  harm  substance,  which  to  state  put 
his  tongue  to  a  most  violent  contortional  exercise. 
With  respect  to  spirits  that  never  had  bodies,  with 
whom  he  had  never  had  any  sort  of  acquaintance, 
and  they  presumably  none  with  him,  who  could  not 
call  him  Henry  and  did  not  know  where  he  lived, 
they  did  not  disquiet  him.  He  would  have  been  glad 
to  see  or  hear  an  angel,  and  the  devil  never  but  once 
seemed  to  be  coming  his  way  and  that  was  years  ago 
when  for  a  few  revival  days  his  untried  soul  wrestled 
with  the  dogma  of  total  depravity  and  groaned  under 
a  conviction  of  sin. 

On  the  morning  of  the  funeral  day  he  dressed  him- 


232  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

self  with  unwonted  care  and  with  a  scrupulous  regard, 
so  far  as  his  lights  could  direct  him,  for  the  conven- 
tionalities and  proprieties  of  the  solemn  occasion 
before  him.  He  knew  that  black  was  the  color.  He 
began  with  his  boots.  Shoeblacking  was  a  footgear 
cosmetic  never  known  in  the  Anthony  household. 
Henry  had  discovered  a  substitute  which  recommended 
itself  to  him  because  always  on  hand  and  more  con- 
venient for  use  than  the  commercial  article.  It  was 
sometimes  suggested  to  him  by  those  occasionally 
present  at  his  somewhat  rare  toilets  that  this  blacking 
was  not  susceptible  of  so  fine  a  polish  as  the  "store 
stuff,"  but  an  answer  perfectly  satisfactory  to  himself 
was  that  "if  a  boot  ith  ath  black  ath  a  thtove  it  ith 
black  enough." 

So,  on  this  morning  he  went  as  usual  to  the  kitchen, 
inverted  a  kettle,  and  exercising  alternately  his  max- 
illary glands  and  his  brush,  arrayed  his  coarse  boots 
in  a  coat  of  black  positive  enough,  in  his  view,  for 
any  sermon-hearing  or  any  funeral — two  things  which 
he  was  like  a  great  many  other  people  in  regarding 
as  closely  akin;  differing  mainly  in  this,  that  at  a 
funeral  an  actual  corpse  of  some  known  person  is 
present,  while  at  sermon  a  corpse  is  but  imagined, 
and  there  is  far  less  mourning,  because  the  imagined 
corpse  is  that  of  some  indefinite  unfortunate  whom 
somewhere,  somehow,  some  tune  death  overtook. 
Oh,  how  many  funerals  this  stranger  has  had,  and  he 
is  not  yet  buried ! 

But  Henry,  through  sorrowful  piety  and  reverence, 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  233 

applied  a  double  portion  of  sombre  and  solemn  soot. 
His  boot  could  not  say  to  the  kettle  "  Thou  art  black." 

A  couple  of  years  before  this  Henry  was  present 
when  Walter  was  discarding  some  old  clothes.  Walter 
held  up  a  swallow-tail  coat  and  surveyed  it  from  top 
to  bottom.  It  was  a  garment  such  as  Henry  had  never 
beheld  and  he  observed  it  with  wonder. 

"What  d'ye  call  that?"  he  asked.  "That  mutht 
be  a  houthe  that  the  carpenterth  forgot  to  build  the 
cornerth  onto." 

"That?  Oh,  that's  what  we  call  a  claw  hammer," 
answered  Walter.  "You  may  have  it  if  you  like,"  and 
he  tossed  the  coat  to  Henry. 

"That  mutht  be  thome  new  thtyle  that  you  ketched 
at  your  college.  Do  they  wear  them  thingth  up 
there?" 

"Well,  once  in  a  while.  That'll  do  for  you  when 
you  go  to  some  big  party  or  wedding — or  funeral," 
said  Walter  with  a  disposition  to  joke  which  Henry 
did  not  perceive. 

"  All  right,  thir,  thankth.  I'll  wear  it  and  remember 
you." 

So  Henry  put  it  on,  this  day  that  he  was  to  help 
carry  Walter  to  his  grave,  and  it  must  be  confessed 
that,  though  sincere  sorrow  and  mourning  were  in 
his  heart,  a  little  vanity  and  pride  found  their  way 
in,  too,  and  Mrs.  Anthony,  as  she  gazed  upon  the 
queerly  fashioned  garment  hanging  from  the  shoul- 
ders of  her  son,  was  surprised  at  the  air  of  gentility 
and  grace  that  it  imparted  to  the  form  and  figure 


234  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

of  her  lank,  loose-jointed,  bony  and  awkward  Henry. 

Henry  was  conscious  of  this  pride  in  himself  and, 
feeling  it  a  sin,  strove,  with  but  a  moment's  success, 
to  drive  it  away  with  the  following  reflection: 

"Little  did  he  think,  I  reckon,  that  it  wath  goin' 
to  be  to  hith  own  funeral  that  I  would  wear  it  firtht." 

"No,  no,"  sighed  his  mother,  "we  can  never  tell 
what's  goin'  to  happen.  It  may  be  one  of  ours  turn 
next." 

After  which  moralizing  the  pride  returned.  Henry 
would  not  wear  his  overcoat  on  the  pretext  that  it 
was  too  shabby,  but  perhaps  he  left  it  off  only  because 
he  was  unwilling  that  the  solemn  glory  of  his  new 
habiliment  should  be  hidden  by  gross  and  common 
fabric. 

It  was  a  cut  of  cloth  with  which  the  community, 
also,  was  not  familiar.  A  few,  indeed,  understood  the 
functions  of  this  style  of  coat,  but  a  funeral  is  not  an 
occasion  when  one  stops  to  be  critical  and  they  regarded 
its  appearance  only  as  an  extreme  informality  among 
the  innumerable  informalities  of  commoner  brood  that 
thrive  in  country  districts.  Others  had  now  and  then 
seen  preachers  thus  arrayed  at  meetings  of  Baptist 
associations,  and  were  therefore  struck  with  no  sus- 
picion of  particular  impropriety,  since  if  a  preacher 
might  wear  such  a  coat  at  an  Association  a  layman 
might  wear  one  at  a  funeral.  But  to  all  the  rest  this 
coat  was  something  wholly  new  and  broke  upon  their 
vision  as  a  veritable  revelation,  an  unheard-of 
phenomenon. 


"Stand  aside!     Others  will  do  your  work." 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  235 

The  people  felt  that  under  it  Henry's  character  was 
changed,  that  it  had  un-Henried  or  trans-Henried 
him.  Part  of  the  Henry,  anyway,  was  somehow  gone 
from  him  or  had  been  submerged  or  overwhelmed  by 
the  garb  that  was  upon  him. 

Once  they  felt  that  the  coat  was  in  the  nature  of  a 
robe.  Again,  they  would  scarcely  have  been  surprised 
if  Henry  had  spread  the  scant,  black  skirts,  leaped 
from  the  earth  and  flown  awkwardly  away. 

This  impression  of  Henry's  strangeness  had  been 
deepened  by  his  manner.  His  face  was  pale,  his 
hands  shook  and  his  legs  quaked.  His  excitement 
increased,  the  nearer  the  grave  was  approached,  and 
as  the  bier  was  taken  up  at  the  graveyard  gate  and 
the  burden  borne  forward,  his  trembling  became  so 
violent  and  his  weakness  so  great  that  half  the  time 
he  leaned  heavily  against  the  box  and  became  himself 
a  burden  as  well. 

As  the  solemn  procession  moved  on,  some  of  those 
who  had  held  off  followed  at  some  distance,  but  the 
most  timid  ones  still  remained  in  the  place  they  had 
first  taken  and  a  few  believed  themselves  safer  out- 
side the  enclosure  altogether. 

Reaching  the  grave,  Abner  Garrett,  Bertha  and 
Henry  were  equally  surprised  to  find  Gassier  awaiting 
the  cortege  there,  for  it  was  he  who  had  been  engaged 
by  some  of  the  friends  of  the  family,  without  con- 
sulting Mr.  Garrett  in  this  particular,  to  dig  the  grave 
and  act  as  sexton.  Garrett  and  Bertha  were  both 
surprised  and  shocked,  the  former  because  he  felt  that 


236  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Gassier  had  meddled  cruelly  in  the  affairs  of  his  family, 
and  Bertha  because  she  looked  upon  him  as  the  wretch 
that  by  fiendish  lying  had  robbed  her  of  her  lover. 
Her  indignation  now  consumed  even  her  sorrow. 
The  box  had  been  placed  over  the  grave,  "Brother 
Charlie"  had  offered  a  prayer.  Bertha  turned  to 
Gassier  and  said : 

"  Please  stand  aside." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked,  surprised. 

"Stand  aside.  Others  will  do  your  work,"  she 
said  in  a  louder  voice  and  in  the  undoubted  tone  of 
command. 

At  the  same  time  she  stepped  toward  him.  He 
stepped  back,  but  as  he  did  so  his  foot  struck  one  end 
of  the  board  supporting  the  foot  of  the  box.  The 
earth  beneath  began  to  crumble  and  fall  into  the  grave, 
and  the  box  to  sink.  Gassier  stooped  quickly  to 
support  it  with  his  hand.  Bertha  caught  sight  on 
one  finger  of  a  silver  ring  in  the  semblance  of  a  coiled 
serpent.  Then  the  geography  of  the  whole  hand, 
quick  as  a  flash  of  lightning,  became  outlined  in  her 
sight  with  the  distinctness  of  a  map. 

She  had  shrunk  back  in  terror  from  the  same  shining 
serpent  and  that  same  uncouth  hand,  seen  in  the  glare 
of  the  lamplight  on  the  porch  fourteen  years  before. 
She  was  now  equally  unnerved  and  overcome  by  the 
sight.  As  her  eye  fell  upon  it  her  pale  face  grew  still 
paler.  She  gave  a  shrill  scream  and  sprang  to  grasp 
Mr.  Garrett's  arm.  Gassier  had  caught  the  box  just 
in  time  to  keep  it  from  going  down,  but  the  board  fell 
into  the  grave. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  237 

Not  all  had  heard  just  what  Bertha  had  said  to 
Gassier,  but  they  had  observed  her  anger,  Gassler's 
stepping  back  and  quick  stooping,  the  dull,  hollow 
sound  that  came  from  the  grave  when  the  board 
struck  the  hard  bottom,  Bertha's  piercing  cry  and 
bound,  and  all  were  seized  with  consternation  and 
fright.  It  was  in  every  mind  that  the  dread  truth, 
whatever  it  might  be,  in  all  the  gossip,  all  the  con- 
jectures and  all  the  fears  that  had  filled  the  air  for  a 
month  had  come  out  sure  enough  in  some  awful  un- 
earthly climax. 

The  little  graveyard  became  like  a  madhouse. 
Bertha's  scream  was  immediately  echoed  by  a  score 
of  screams  in  different  parts  of  the  cemetery.  A 
portion  of  the  people,  though  cold  with  fear,  rushed 
to  the  grave  and  surged  about  it,  not  stopping  in  their 
frenzied  impetuosity  to  pollute  with  their  feet  the 
sacred  pile  of  fresh  earth,  upon  which,  ankle  deep  in 
the  loose  clay,  they  pressed  against  one  another  for 
position.  Others  turned  and  fled  in  panic. 

Men,  women  and  children  were  scrambling  over  the 
fences.  A  score  of  colored  people  of  both  sexes  rushed 
from  the  yard,  shrieking,  imagining  that  the  very 
tombstones  had  forsaken  the  holy  mounds  over  which 
through  long  days  and  nights  they  had  kept  silent 
sentry  and  were  in  pursuit  of  them. 

Gassier,  angered  at  Bertha's  command,  was,  through 
the  stupefaction  of  the  men  about  him,  left  so  long 
alone  in  his  cramped  position,  supporting  the  heavy 
box,  though  it  was  but  a  moment,  that  he  was  still 


238  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

furthered  angered,  and,  beside  himself  with  rage,  he 
ordered  them  with  an  oath  to  take  hold  of  the  straps 
and  lower  the  box  into  the  grave. 

Hearing  the  profane  words,  Prof.  Bland  with  an 
inarticulate  exclamation  of  horror  raised  his  eyes 
toward  heaven.  Mrs.  Garrett  sank  down  on  Julia's 
grave,  moaning  and  wringing  her  hands.  Dan  was 
by  her  side  seeking  to  compose  her.  Henry  was 
seized  by  his  old  mother  who  was  endeavoring  to  drag 
him  away.  Old  Maggie  was  running  distractedly 
from  one  to  another,  saying  words  no  one  could  under- 
stand and  to  which,  indeed,  no  one  listened.  Abner 
Garrett  had  Bertha  folded  in  his  arms,  patting  hsr 
on  the  back  and  saying  such  things  as  a  mother  might 
say  to  a  frightened  child. 

Hearing  Gassler's  oath,  the  frenzied  girl  cried: 

"The  robber!  The  robber!  The  robber!  Look  at 
his  hand!" 

People  thought  at  first  that  she  had  lost  her  reason, 
but  Garrett,  just  as  the  first  faint  apprehension  of  her 
meaning  was  beginning  to  be  caught,  staggered,  pale 
and  desperate,  toward  Gassier  with  the  command: 

"Show  us  your  left  hand." 

And  now  there  were  some  who  fully  understood  the 
significance  of  Bertha's  actions  and  words. 

"Show  us  your  left  hand,"  repeated  Garrett  as 
Gassier  drew  back  and  hesitated.  Then,  with  defiant 
impatience  the  man  shot  forth  his  hand. 

There  was  the  serpent  of  silver  coiled  around  the 
third  finger,  and  from  the  base  of  the  finger  a  scar  ran 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  239 

up  the  palm  to  a  depression  in  the  ball  of  the  thumb. 

Sure  enough,  and  some  remarked  it  was  strange 
they  had  never  noticed  it,  though,  indeed,  the  slight 
fame  about  this  mark  in  the  days  following  the  rob- 
bery had  remained  but  a  short  time  in  the  common 
recollection. 

"  You  must  be  the  man,"  said  Garrett  with  firmness 
but  with  no  indication  of  a  personal  resentment. 

A  murmur  of  astonishment  ran  through  the  crowd, 
and  all  eyes  were  upon  Gassier.  Garrett  looked 
around  at  his  wife  and  the  family  group,  and,  turning 
again  to  Gassier,  he  said  with  a  patriarchal  authority 
as  he  pointed  into  the  grave  : 

"You  shall  not  throw  one  clod  of  dirt  upon  that 
coffin." 

"You  tried  to  kill  papa!  You  robbed  us!  You 
have  been  a  curse  to  us  all!  You  dare  to  bury  our 
brother!  He  ought  to  have  hanged  you!"  cried 
Bertha. 

Gassler's  face  was  as  red  as  fire. 

"  Your  papa,"  he  yelled ;  "  your  brother,  eh?  I 
guess  it's  time  you  knowed  who  your  papa  is.  I'm 
your  papa,  and  there,"  pointing  to  Old  Maggie,  whose 
mouth  was  wide  open  with  apprehension  and  wonder, 
"there's  your  mammy.  That  may  take  some  o'  the 
fine  feathers  off  ye.  You've  got  too  many  of  'em." 

Bertha  had  naught  to  reply.  She  could  not  have 
spoken  had  she  tried,  for  the  memory  of  a  childish 
teasing,  long  forgotten,  now  returned  and  overwhelmed 
her.  Nor  would  she  have  spoken  if  she  could.  Gass- 


240  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

lei's  was  the  taunt  of  an  angry  man,  but  it  had  not 
seemed  merely  a  madly-aimed,  insulting  jest,  and 
Bertha  stood  mute  and  motionless,  dreading  in  any- 
wise to  provoke  a  look,  a  sign,  a  breath  of  confirmation 
that  would  dash  away  the  slight  hope  still  left  to  her, 
in  spite  of  the  memory  and  Gassier' s  manner,  that  the 
words  might  be  untrue.  Oh,  she  could  bear  that 
teasing  again,  for  if  that  were  the  same  truth  it  seemed 
so  little  a  one;  but  now,  coming  on  a  torrent  of  anger, 
it  was  full  grown,  savage  and  a  monster.  If  she  could 
resist  it  even  by  turning  into  a  statue  of  stone  she 
would  wish  to  do  that. 

The  silence  of  all,  which  endured  for  several  moments, 
was  a  mercy  to  her.  At  length  Abner  Garrett  turned 
around,  saying: 

"Let  us  go.  Neighbors,  some  of  you  will  please 
see  that  the  grave  is  filled." 

He  and  Bertha  taking  the  lead,  the  company  of 
mourners  went  to  the  gate.  There  all  except  these 
two  took  the  carriages,  for  the  planter  had  assented 
to  Bertha's  suggestion  that  he  and  she  walk  home 
together  through  the  woods. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
AN  ORPHAN. 

THE  rugged  old  beeches  along  the  oft-trodden  way 
which  Garrett  and  Bertha  now  walked,  close  together, 
and,  for  a  little  distance,  in  silence,  extended,  so  it 
seemed  to  them,  a  something  like  sympathy  to  their 
troubled  spirits,  and  Garrett  here  and  there,  as  he 
passed,  actually  caught  the  end  of  a  low-swinging 
branch  as  if  it  were  the  hand  of  a  plain  and  faithful 
friend. 

Bertha  was  in  agony  with  a  doubt  that  was  making 
a  whirlwind  in  her  soul,  and  the  man  with  a  truth 
which,  while  it  remained  a  secret  from  the  girl,  had, 
indeed,  sometimes  tortured  him,  but  which  now,  he 
felt,  must  rend  him  as  it  passed  from  him. 

"  Father,"  cried  the  girl  as  she  threw  back  the  black 
veil  that  hung  before  her  face  and,  turning  about, 
caught  Mr.  Garrett  convulsively  by  the  arm — "Father, 
is  it  so?" 

Garrett  did  not  fail  to  notice  that  it  was  the  first 
or  second  time  in  her  life  that,  in  addressing  him,  she 
had  used  the  word  Father,  nor  that  she  repeated  it 
and  dwelt  upon  it  as  if  pleading  that  he  should  call 
her  his  own.  The  appeal  made  him  doubly  tender 
toward  her,  if  that  were  possible,  for  it  was  infinitely 
pitiful;  and  doubly  miserable,  if  that,  too,  were  pos- 

241 


242  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

sible,  that  he  could  not  give  her  the  answer  for  which 
her  heart  yearned. 

"  Daughter — daughter — daughter,"  he  almost  sobbed 
as  he  threw  his  arms  about  her  and  looked  down  into 
her  face  (and  he  could  see  already  tears  of  joy  welling 
in  her  eyes);  "daughter  you  have  been  since  before 
you  can  remember;  daughter  you  shall  always  be,  but" 
— and  the  old  man  scarcely  knew  his  own  voice  as  he 
said  it — "  have  not  always  been." 

Perplexity  and  distress  returned  to  Bertha's  face. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  asked.  "Is  it  so, 
then?" 

"We  are  not  your  real  flesh  and  blood  parents.  It 
is  true  that  Maggie  is  your  mother.  I  suppose  Gassier 
is  your  father.  But  it  shall  make  no  difference, 
Bertha.  You  are  our  daughter  by  adoption;  ours  by 
love  and  care.  You  have  always  been  our  darling 
just  the  same  as  if  you  had  been  really  our  own  child. 
We  have  always  loved  you  as  we  loved  Julia.  It 
can't  make  any  difference,  can  it,  dear?  " 

Bertha  was  already  sobbing,  and  her  tears  were 
those  of  the  orphan,  for  the  voice  of  Abner  Garrett 
even  now  sounded  like  that  of  another  and  his  words 
simply  as  the  consolation  of  some  kind  stranger.  She 
felt  that  he  had  at  last  forsaken  her  in  a  woeful  ex- 
tremity and  had  taken  the  cruel  part  of  the  detested 
Gassier  against  her. 

"  Oh,  father,"  she  said — for  she  clung  to  that  name — 
"it  makes  me  feel  so  lonely.  I  feel  as  if  you  all  were 
dead,  you  and  mamma  and  Dan,  buried  today  in  the 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  243 

same  grave  with  Walter,  and  Gassier  standing  over  it, 
and  I  left  without  any  parents  or  home  at  all." 

"Bertha,  we  are  just  as  much  your  parents  as  if 
you  had  been  born  to  us,"  replied  the  old  man  stoutly. 
"We  have  always  treated  you  as  if  you  were  our  own 
child,  and  we  always  shall.  You  cannot  remember 
when  it  was  otherwise,  so  let  it  make  no  difference, 
for,  anyway,  it  could  be  only  a  fancied  difference. 
Your  home  is  with  us.  Our  love  and  care  are  with 
you."  The  girl  smiled  sadly. 

"I  shall  never  leave  you,"  she  said,  "but  I  cannot 
bear  the  thought  that  Gassier  is  my  father  and  Old 
Maggie  my  mother.  It  degrades  me.  It  makes  me 
ashamed  and  will  torment  me  every  day  of  my  life. 
I  can  never  lift  up  my  head  again — have  other  people 
known  it?" 

"They  have  known  Maggie  was  your  mother — that 
is,  the  most  of  them — but  not  that  Gassier  was  your 
father,  so  far  as  I  know,  until  this  day.  Gassier  must 
be  an  assumed  name.  His  name  must  be  Crowell — 
Maggie's  name." 

"But  it  is  so  strange.  How  did  it  happen?  Why 
have  they  not  lived  together?  Was  I  not  born  in 
the  house?" 

"They  were  married  hi  Kentucky  just  before  the 
war.  He  soon  deserted'  her  and  joined  the  Con- 
federate army,  leaving  her  entirely  destitute  and 
alone  without  relatives  or  friends.  As  your  birth 
approached  she  became  a  public  charge.  A  few  weeks 
after  you  were  born  I  brought  you  and  Maggie  here 


244  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

where  you  have  ever  since  been.  I  knew  nothing 
about  Gassier  until  he  came  to  the  neighborhood,  for 
what  purpose  I  don't  know,  two  or  three  years  ago, 
though  we  find  today  that  he  was  one  of  the  men  who 
robbed  us.  You  were  still  a  baby  when  we  grew  so 
fond  of  you  that  we  told  Maggie  that,  if  she  were 
willing,  we  would  adopt  you  and  treat  you  as  our  own 
child.  She  consented,  but  said  she  wanted  you  to 
grow  up  considering  us  as  your  parents.  At  the  same 
time  we  told  her  that  she  need  never  leave  you,  but 
that  we  wanted  her  to  remain  in  our  household." 

"And  so  I  must  think  of  Old  Maggie  as  my  mother!" 
and  the  tears  came  again. 

"But,  Bertha,  think  what  the  good  soul  has  done 
for  you.  Given  you  up,  priceless  treasure  that  you 
are,  all  her  life  long.  Proud  of  you  as  any  mother 
ever  was  of  a  child — so  proud  of  you  that,  being 
ashamed  of  her  own  simplicity,  her  physical  defects 
and  her  indifferent  extraction,  she  has  been  pleased — 
though  with  many  a  real  mother's  sorrowful  moment, 
no  doubt — to  have  you  pass  for  our  daughter  and  to 
have  you  think  of  yourself  as  our  daughter,  imagining 
that  we  were  more  respectable  and  more  highly  con- 
sidered than  she  could  ever  be.  Coupled  with  that, 
she  wanted  to  make  sure  that,  whatever  became  of 
herself,  as  she  said,  you  would  have  a  home  where 
you  would  be  loved  and  be  in  comfort." 

"Poor  Old  Maggie!"  said  Bertha  in  a  tone  of  com- 
passion, "  but  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  her  as  my  mother 
— where  was  she  living  when  I  was  born?" 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  245 

"She  was  in  a  poorhouse  managed  by  a  relative  of 
mine,  but  it  was  not  her  fault.  Many  worthy  people 
find  themselves  forced  there." 

The  girl  flushed  and  paled  by  turns. 

"Poorhouse!  Oh,  it  is  all  so  strange,  so  strange!" 
she  murmured,  "  I  can't  believe  it.  I'm  only  dreaming 
it." 

"And  I  often  reproached  myself,"  continued  Mr. 
Garrett,  "for  at  first  consenting  to  Maggie's  request 
and  then  continuing  to  carry  it  out,  until  the  time  came 
when  I  felt  I  could  not  give  you  up  as  mine,  and  could 
not  have  you  know  the  truth.  I  felt  that  my  wife 
and  I  were  stealing  you  from  Maggie,  kidnapping 
you  from  her,  taking  advantage  of  her  poor  state,  and 
I  have  doubly  reproached  myself  and  felt  a  sense  of 
guilt  on  those  occasions  when  Maggie  seemed  particu- 
larly tender  toward  you,  and  proud  of  you,  and  I  could 
see  she  was  yearning  to  have  you  call  her  mamma. 
But  she  never  once  spoke  about  these  things." 

"But  why  have  you  never  told  me  before?  You 
could  have  told  just  me." 

"To  save  you  what  you  suffer  now,  my  darling, 
and,  as  I  told  you  a  moment  ago,  I  was  so  selfish  I 
could  not  give  you  up.  When  Julia  died" — and  the 
poor  old  man's  lips  quivered  and  his  voice  was  trem- 
ulous— "  when  Julia  died  we  had  no  longer  a  daughter. 
You  seemed  sent  to  take  her  place — you  looked  much 
like  her,  and  you  were  so  sweet  a  child,  so  affectionate, 
so  fond  of  us." 

And  here  the  old  man  and  the  girl  wept  together. 


246  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"Gassier  my  father?"  murmured  Bertha.  "What 
will  you  do  with  Gassier,  papa?" 

"  I  would  not,  if  I  could,  harm  a  hair  of  his  head." 

"But  why?  He  robbed  us.  He  struck  you.  He 
has  lied  about  me,  and  he  swore  at  Walter's  grave." 

"  Yes,  he  is  a  hard  man,  but  had  it  not  been  for  him 
I  would  never  have  seen  you." 

Bertha  answered  nothing.  They  were  still  face  to 
face  with  their  arms  around  each  other,  heedless  of 
the  chilling  wind  that  blew  through  the  wood,  half 
forgetful  of  where  they  were,  looking  around  to  see 
only  that  they  were  alone. 

"I  don't  want  to  let  go  of  you,"  said  Bertha,  "for 
I  feel  that  we  are  taking  leave  of  each  other."  The 
words  were  hurried  out  of  her  throat  by  a  lump  that 
was  just  behind  them.  "  I  feel  that  I  am  losing  you 
and  you  are  losing  me.  I  fear  that  you  will  not  seem 
the  same  to  me,  and  that  I  shall  myself  be  some  other 
person." 

"No,  no,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Garrett  with  gentle 
deprecation.  "But,  Bertha,  have  you  thought  that 
this  may  be  all  for  the  best?  Have  you  thought  of 
Pressley?" 

The  girl's  face  must  have  looked  like  the  faces  of 
those  who  after  anxious  search  have  at  last  found 
what  was  long  lost,  or  of  those  who  in  the  morning 
have  found  peace  after  a  night  of  turmoil.  Mr.  Garrett 
could  see  that  a  new  and  mighty  hope  was  hi  her  breast. 

"Bertha,  I  felt  it  cruel  not  to  tell  you  then,"  said 
he,  meaning  a  time  that  she  understood  perfectly 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  247 

well,  "but  I  was  so  selfish  I  could  not  give  you  up, 
and  then,  my  wife,  your  mother,  it  would  have  so  hurt 
her  to  tell  you  under  those  circumstances.  And  I 
could  not  give  you  up  in  a  more  literal  sense.  I  could 
not  bear  to  think  of  your  marrying  and  going  away 
from  us.  So  all  your  suffering  has  been  for  us,  has 
been  my  fault" — 

"No,  no,  father,"  said  Bertha,  for  his  pains  of  re- 
pentance pained  her.  But  he  was  determined  to  con- 
fess himself  to  the  child  whom,  through  his  too  selfish 
fondness,  he  had  caused  to  suffer,  and  from  whom, 
now  become  his  priestess,  he  would  ask  forgiveness. 

"Yes,  it  has  been  my  fault,"  he  said  with  a  frank 
insistence  and  a  self-condemnation  which  he  would 
not  hold  back  from  inflicting  with  all  due  rigor  as  a 
penance.  "Every  night  for  months  I  have  made  up 
my  mind  to  tell  you  in  the  morning,  but  when  the 
morning  came,  somehow  I  would  not  or  could  not 
speak  the  words,  even  though  your  sorrow  distressed 
me." 

And  then,  so  prone  is  even  the  most  contrite  soul 
to  seek  excuses  for  itself,  he  added : 

"And  I  might  have  told  you  had  it  not  occurred  to 
me  that  possibly  it  would  be  useless,  as  Pressley 
might  be  no  better  satisfied  with  your  new  parents, 
considering  their  standing,  than  with  the  old.  But 
now  let  him  know  everything,  and,  since  you  love  him, 
I  hope  he  will  come  back  to  you. — We  must  go  on. 
I'm  chilled  through." 

But  Bertha's  new  hope  was  like  a  dream  and  it 


248  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

passed  like  a  dream.  It  was  gone  when  they  reached 
the  other  side  of  the  wood,  for  Bertha  had  begun  to 
suspect  that  Jim  might  think  she  had  become  purged 
of  one  kind  of  dross  only  by  the  revelation  of  another 
equally  intolerable;  and  the  dear  old  house  and  the 
almost  as  dear  big  playhouse  of  a  barn  had  come  into 
view.  There  was  a  strangeness  about  the  familiar 
premises  now.  There  was  not  the  old  look  of  welcome 
from  the  windows.  The  big,  ornamentally-capped  gate 
posts,  several  pairs  of  them,  seemed  like  foreign  sentry 
captains  that  had  thrown  their  lines  about  the  place. 
She  had  something  like  a  fear  that  as  she  passed  near 
them  they  would  challenge  her  as  an  intruder. 

This  impression  and  a  kindred  feeling  of  loneliness 
made  her  as  miserable  as  ever,  and  she  was  impatient 
to  be  once  more  hi  the  shelter  and  privacy  of  her  own 
room,  for  there,  at  any  rate,  some  things  were  her 
own  and  would  beam  forth  a  gladness  at  her  coming. 

As  the  two  drew  near  the  house  Bertha  hastened  in 
such  a  measure  as  to  surprise  Garrett,  who  found  it 
hard  to  keep  pace  with  her.  He  looked  at  her  and 
could  see  from  her  face  that  some  change  in  the  direc- 
tion of  her  thoughts  had  renewed  her  agitation. 

"But  perhaps  it  is  only  because  she  is  cold," 
thought  he. 

The  others  had  already  returned  and  were  gathered 
about  the  fire  in  the  sitting  room,  absorbed  in  their 
reflection  on  the  melancholy  and  startling  occurrences 
of  the  afternoon,  and  saying  only  those  commonplace 
things  that  are  more  than  ever  commonplace  when 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  249 

minds  have  been  so  wrought  on  that  tongues  are  not 
yet  trusted  to  speak. 

Old  Maggie  was  ill  at  ease  with  only  such  knowledge  of 
what  had  happened  as  her  imperfect  senses  had  allowed 
her  to  get,  and  her  mind  was  toiling  hard  and  fast  to 
guess  what  were  the  words  at  the  grave  that  attended 
the  actions  which  she  had  observed,  for  she  had  not 
again  asked  to  be  informed.  She  presumed  she  under- 
stood the  significance  of  Gassler's  showing  his  hand, 
but  he  had  afterward  pointed  to  her  in  excited  declama- 
tion, and  as  to  what  this  meant  she  had  been  left  to 
her  own  unaided  and  anxious  conjectures. 

She  opened  the  door  when  Garrett  and  Bertha 
stepped  on  the  porch.  At  a  glance  Bertha  scanned 
the  faces  of  those  within.  It  was  not  sympathy  or 
pity  that  she  saw,  though  these  were  not  wholly  lacking, 
but  it  seemed  to  her  that  even  the  members  of  the 
family,  Dan  and  Ida  and  Mrs.  Garrett  herself,  were 
looking  at.  her  with  curiosity  and  expectation.  They 
all  appeared  to  be  asking  the  question:  "How  is  she 
going  to  take  it?"  and  to  be  looking  for  some  sign  as 
to  what  had  passed  between  her  and  Abner  Garrett  on 
the  way  from  the  graveyard.  She  found  herself,  so  it 
seemed  to  her,  merely  some  object  of  wonder,  some 
rare  and  unique  person  in  a  class  by  herself,  and  she 
doubly  felt  her  loneliness. 

She  had  not  up  to  this  time  turned  her  eyes  upon 
Maggie.  She  now  looked  at  her  with  a  frown,  as  if 
she  had  suffered  an  injury  from  her,  and  then  speaking 
not  a  word,  she  opened  the  door  to  the  stairway  and 


250  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

went  up  to  her  own  room.  She  had  expected  to  find 
it  cold,  but  a  fire  crackled  on  the  hearth,  that  Old 
Maggie's  thoughtfulness  had  suggested  and  her  hands 
had  kindled.  Bertha  knew  it  and  reflected  upon  it, 
but  the  operation  only  further  confused  her  feelings. 
She  threw  herself  on  the  bed  in  a  bewilderment  and 
anguish  too  intense  for  tears. 

Down  stairs  Old  Maggie  stood  motionless  for  several 
moments  after  the  door  closed  behind  Bertha,  in  a 
state  of  mind  little  short  of  stupefaction. 

"I  have  told  the  poor  girl  all  about  herself,"  said 
Garrett  sadly  to  the  company.  "She  feels  bad  about 
it.  You  can  imagine  how  strange  it  must  be  to  her. 
Probably  it  ought  to  have  been  done  long  ago,  but  it 
is  done  now  because  it  had  to  be  done,  and  we  must 
hope  it  is  for  the  best." 

Old  Maggie  could  not  catch  what  was  said.  She 
passed  through  the  room  straightway  with  a  most 
pitiful  expression  in  her  face  and  sought  her  wonted 
place  on  a  plain  chair  by  the  kitchen  window.  Her 
devoted  soul  was  filled  with  an  indescribable  sense  of 
disaster  and  loss. 

It  was  but  a  few  minutes  until  she  recrossed  the 
sitting  room,  carrying  a  few  sticks  of  wood.  The  wood 
may  have  been  but  an  excuse.  Perhaps  her  only 
object  was  to  confirm  a  sudden  hope  that  she  had 
mistaken  Bertha's  manner  or,  if  not,  to  get,  if  possible, 
from  her  darling  daughter  a  kinder  look.  Garrett 
could  not  force  himself  to  bid  her  wait.  She  climbed 
the  stairs  and  tapped  on  the  door. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  251 

Bertha  opened  it.     Maggie  made  a  motion  as  if  to 
bear  her  burden  in,  but  Bertha  took  the  sticks  she  . 
carried  at  the  threshold  and  seemed  to  expect  her 
immediate  retirement. 

Maggie   came   down,   and   with  tears  hi  her  eyes 
again  passed  out. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
AWAY  FROM  HOME. 

I  AM  sure  that  if  H.  Kirk  White  had  been  authori- 
tatively informed  that  Prof.  Bland  would  be  the  only 
person  ever  in  all  the  world  to  sing  his  hymn,  "The 
Star  of  Bethlehem,"  but  had  been  told  also  just  how 
the  professor  would  sing  it,  he  would  still  be  content 
to  have  composed  it  and  rate  it  the  product  of  a 
gracious  inspiration. 

Let  the  hymn  here  enter  fully  into  our  story,  as  it 
was  sure  to  do  sooner  or  later  after  the  advent  of  Prof. 
Bland,  and  the  close  companions,  already  too  long 
separated,  be  united  again: 

When,  marshalled  on  the  nightly  plain 
The  glittering  hosts  bestud  the  sky, 

One  star  alone  of  all  the  train 
Can  fix  the  sinner's  wandering  eye. 

Hark!  hark!  to  God  the  chorus  breaks 
From  every  host,  from  every  gem, 

But  one  alone  the  Savior  speaks — 
It  is  the  Star  of  Bethlehem. 

Once  on  the  raging  seas  I  rode. 

The  storm  was  loud,  the  night  was  dark. 
The  ocean  yawned,  and  rudely  blowed 

The  wind  that  tossed  my  foundering  bark 

252 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  253 

Deep  horror  then  my  vitals  froze. 

Death-struck,  I  ceased  the  tide  to  stem; 
When  suddenly  a  star  arose — 

It  was  the  Star  of  Bethlehem. 

It  was  my  guide,  my  light,  my  all; 

It  bade  my  dark  forebodings  cease; 
And  through  the  storm  and  danger's  thrall 

It  led  me  to  the  port  of  peace. 

Now  safely  moored — my  perils  o'er, 

I'll  sing  first  in  night's  diadem 
Forever  and  forevermore. 

The  Star— the  Star  of  Bethlehem. 

This  hymn  was  a  favorite  with  Prof.  Bland,  and 
whenever  he  sang  it  or  joined  others  in  singing  it,  as 
he  often  did  at  Sunday  school  or  prayer  meeting,  his 
whole  soul  came  out  in  the  song.  As  one  listened  to 
his  voice  and  watched  the  varying  expressions  of  his 
countenance  with  his  noble  and  scholarly  face  up- 
turned, the  words,  as  they  were  uttered,  unrolled  to 
the  mental  eye  a  sublime  and  terrible  picture  wonder- 
fully vivid.  One  could  see  the  marshalling  of  the 
glittering  hosts,  the  sinner's  wandering  eye,  the  frightful 
storm,  the  awful  peril,  the  agony  of  the  lone  navigator 
in  the  wrath  of  the  deep,  the  beam  of  the  saving  star, 
and  the  secure  port  from  which  arose  the  grateful  song 
of  deliverance.  All  the  peril,  the  despair  and  the  escape 
were  there,  a  graphic,  orthodox  description  of  man's 
lost  state  and  only  hope  of  salvation. 

And  to  the  mind  of  no  listener,  probably,  was  the 
picture  thus  drawn  more  distinct  and  real  than  to 
that  of  Gassier. 


254  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

On  this  robust,  unlettered,  impulsive,  quick-tempered 
man,  the  maimed,  the  reserved,  the  studious,  the  ven- 
erable, the  poetry-quoting,  the  devotional  school- 
master had  made  a  profound  impression.  The  ardent 
temperament  of  the  cobbler  warmed  into  a  glow  at 
sight  or  thought  of  his  benign  friend,  the  professor. 
He  often  looked  out  of  his  shop  window  with  pity  on 
the  crippled  savant  as  the  latter  went  hobbling  by 
on  the  gravelly  street,  and  considered  himself  highly 
honored,  and  was  good  enough  to  feel  even  ennobled 
whenever  the  professor  shambled  up  the  steep,  narrow, 
short  flight  of  steps  and  sat  down  in  the  shop  for  a 
little  chat  and  to  observe  the  shoemaker  at  his  craft. 

Gassier  used  to  eye  the  physical  peculiarities  of 
Prof.  Bland  as  closely  as  he  dared.  The  shrunken 
and  poorly  controlled  leg  and  foot  seemed  to  him  the 
most  curious  of  all  blighted  things,  and  he  was  put  in 
a  kind  of  awe  of  the  professor  by  the  suspicion  that  for 
bodily  imperfection  he  had  been  compensated  by  a 
kind  Providence  with  an  inner  nature  that  surpassed 
the  merely  human  and  had  something  of  the  celestial 
about  it. 

The  fact  that  the  professor  habitually  wore  light 
shoes  with  elastic  tops,  commonly  called  gaiters,  was 
a  detail  not  without  its  effect  in  the  aggregate  of 
circumstances  that  determined  Gassler's  estimate  of 
him.  He  would  have  thought  it  a  sign  of  effeminacy 
in  any  other  man  to  wear  gaiters,  and  so  he  did,  indeed, 
in  the  case  of  Prof.  Bland,  yet  in  this  instance  an 
effeminacy  not  implying  an  inherent  weakness,  but 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  255 

softening  and  gracing  a  masculine  character  with  some 
of  the  finer  feminine  attributes  by  virtue  of  a  stern 
and  chastening  infirmity. 

Once  Gassier  was  given  the  gaiters  to  mend.  In 
the  work  of  repair  he  lost  time  by  musing  over  them. 
He  handled  them  much  as  he  might  the  wings  from 
off  the  heels  of  Mercury,  or  the  sandals  of  Gabriel.  He 
turned  them  over  and  over.  He  peered  into  them  and 
explored  the  toe  with  a  finger  where  the  eye  could  not 
reach.  Finer,  he  observed,  than  the  coarse  boots  and 
shoes  usually  dropped  at  his  bench  by  men.  Singular 
footgear  of  a  singular  man.  He  dallied  with  them. 
He  delayed,  and  when  the  professor  called  for  them 
they  were  not  done.  Finally  he  cut,  sewed  and  patched 
as  gently  as  if  they  were  the  very  skin  on  their  owner's 
feet,  reluctantly  relinquished  them  and  charged 
nothing. 

When  on  a  summer  Sabbath  morning  Prof.  Bland 
would  come  up  the  aisle  of  the  chapel,  lifting  himself 
along  on  crutch  and  cane  and  with  a  rose  in  his  mouth, 
Gassier  felt  that  this  afflicted  man  was  close  akin  to 
all  the  finer  things  in  the  universe.  He  never  had  such 
a  sense  of  his  own  meanness  as  when  the  professor 
was  near,  and  when  the  latter  sang  "The  Star  of 
Bethlehem"  the  rough  shoemaker  inwardly  groaned 
and  prayed  that  his  feet  might  be  set  upon  a  solid 
rock,  and  that  he  might  constantly  live  the  noble  life 
that  he  felt  aroused  in  him  at  moments.  For  there 
were  chords  in  his  heart  responsive  to  the  touch  of 
angel  hands. 


256  IN     THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

Raised  on  a  small  tobacco  plantation,  without 
schooling,  he  was  scarcely  more  than  a  boy  when  he 
married,  rather  under  an  impulse  of  generosity  than 
for  affection,  a  friendless  girl  at  domestic  service. 
They  were  not  happy  together  and  when,  soon  after- 
ward, the  war  broke  out,  he  was  glad  to  leave  his 
poorly  furnished  and  uncongenial  home  and  join  the 
Lexington  Rifles  raised  by  John  H.  Morgan,  with 
whose  fortunes  his  own  were  identified  until  he  saw 
his  admired  and  beloved  chief  shot  down  by  Federal 
cavalry  at  a  Tennessee  farmhouse.  At  the  close  of 
the  war  he  became  a  Jack-of-all-trades  in  Louisville, 
and  one  of  those  old  soldiers  who  after  the  long  riot 
of  guerrilla  warfare  found  it  hard  to  accustom  them- 
selves to  the  restraints  and  the  tame  activities  of  a 
regime  of  peace. 

He  fell  in  with  a  few  of  his  old  comrades  in  arms, 
and,  lamenting  the  end  to  their  period  of  adventures, 
as  well  as  smarting  under  the  larger  defeat,  they 
resolved  to  compensate  themselves  by  "touching  up 
some  men  over  the  line"  who  had  escaped  loss  or 
indignity  on  the  occasion  of  the  Morgan  raid  into 
Indiana  and  Ohio.  As  they  put  it,  they  would  "  con- 
tinue the  war  a  little,"  and,  indeed,  this  euphemistic 
phrasing  did  to  a  trifling  extent  mitigate  to  the  con- 
sciences of  some  of  them  their  projected  robberies. 

In  camp  one  night  three  years  before,  not  a  dozen 
miles  from  the  Old  Plantation,  Gassier  had  heard 
something  about  the  life  and  the  wealth  of  Abner  Garrett, 
and  this  he  now  recalled,  proposing,  since  it  was  not 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  257 

far  away,  that  the  new  raiders  call  first  at  the  home 
of  this  man  who  had  married  "one  of  his  niggers  and 
turned  his  back  on  the  South."  The  suggestion  was 
adopted,  but  the  execution  of  the  plan  put  Gassier 
entirely  out  of  conceit  with  the  whole  series  of  enter- 
prises of  which  it  was  to  have  been  the  inauguration. 

Gassier  was  greatly  surprised  to  find  his  deserted 
wife  on  the  Garrett  porch.  He  had  heard  that  after 
his  going  away  to  the  army  she  had  become  a  public 
charge,  had  given  birth  to  a  daughter  in  the  poorhouse 
and  had  soon  afterward,  taking  her  child  with  her, 
entered  upon  domestic  service  again  in  a  wealthy 
family,  but  what  family  or  where  his  informants  did 
not  know,  and,  indeed,  at  that  time  he  cared  little. 

He  beheld  with  admiration,  too,  and  not  without  a 
sudden  swelling  of  paternal  affection,  of  course  new  and 
strange  to  him,  the  beautiful  little  girl  by  Maggie's 
side,  for  his  first  inference  was  that  she  was  his  own 
child,  based  on  the  fact  that  she  was  evidently  in 
Maggie's  loving  care,  of  the  age  Maggie's  child  should 
be,  and  on  a  resemblance  to  himself  which  he  fancied 
he  saw  in  her  face  as  he  caught  its  features  in  the 
twilight. 

When,  however,  on  taking  fright  at  him,  the  little 
cherub  ran  to  Garrett  and  clutched  his  arm,  Gassier 
became  doubtful,  for  at  a  time  like  this  surely  the 
actions  of  a  fearful  child  would  indicate  its  natural 
protector.  Where,  then,  was  Maggie's  child?  Already 
put  to  bed?  Or  dead?  At  which  latter  thought 
Gassier  felt  a  strange  sorrow  within  him.  Yet  his  first 


258  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

impression  prevailed,  and  he  felt,  all  the  time  he  was 
superintending  the  atrocious  business  at  the  Garrett 
home,  that  he  was  outraging  the  benefactor  of  his 
wife  and  child. 

The  knowledge  that  he  was  a  father  had  never 
before  this  affected  him  deeply.  He  had  thought  of 
the  unseen  babe  simply  as  something  connected  with 
Maggie,  a  consequence,  indeed,  of  his  association  with 
her,  but  a  kind  of  accidental  inheritance  falling  to  her 
by  nature,  and  under  all  the  circumstances  essentially 
one  of  her  own  affairs. 

Here  now  on  the  porch,  with  a  family  in  terror  under 
his  revolver,  and  desperate  accomplices  looting  the 
house — at  this  incongruous  and  extraordinary  moment 
something  like  an  ordinary  and  normal  sense  of  father- 
hood for  the  first  time  charged  his  soul  with  novel  and 
dignifying  emotions. 

What  the  common  father  feels  in  the  first  hour  of 
his  promotion  to  parentage  he  was  now,  in  large  part, 
feeling.  Here  in  this  most  unexpected  and  unpro- 
pitious  time  and  place  the  pride  of  paternity  had  but 
just  come  to  him.  It  was  of  a  quality  sufficiently 
fine  to  bring  with  it  self-reproach  and  repentance  on 
account  of  desertion,  neglect  and  indifference,  for  the 
heart,  steeled  to  commit  a  felony,  suddenly  softened 
and  expanded,  and  in  opening  wide  enough  to  receive 
the  child,  gave  admittance  to  the  mother  also. 

Hence  he  stretched  forth  his  hand  to  caress  his  babe, 
but  she  shrank  from  him.  He  felt  a  momentary 
impulse  to  call  off  his  companions,  announce  himself, 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  259 

and  on  his  knees  beg  forgiveness  and  mercy,  but  he 
had  been  schooled  in  four  years  of  small-body  warfare 
to  be  faithful  to  comrades  unto  the  end  in  desperate 
undertakings,  and  he  feared  an  accusation  of  dis- 
loyalty which  even  these  unforeseen  and  unprecedented 
circumstances  could  not  adequately  extenuate. 
Besides,  he  realized  that  in  the  essentials  of  this  adven- 
ture he  was  without  authority  to  compromise  his 
fellows.  And  so  he  failed  them  not. 

When,  safely  escaped  and  the  money  counted,  the 
other  men  congratulated  themselves  on  the  success  of 
the  first  of  the  new  raids  and  anticipated  the  profits 
of  those  that  were  to  follow,  Gassier  stated  point- 
blank  that  he  was  done  with  this  kind  of  work,  that 
it  did  not  suit  his  fancy,  but  he  gave  to  his  friends  no 
hint  of  the  discovery  he  had  made  at  the  Old 
Plantation. 

The  money  was  equally  divided.  Gassier  intended 
to  return  his  share  at  once,  but  on  the  morrow  his 
capricious  conscience  was  not  pricking  him  so  keenly. 
It  was  not  a  robbery  in  the  common  meaning  of  the 
word.  It  was  but  a  kind  of  retaliation.  For  four 
years  of  hard  and  unrequited  endeavor  hi  an  unsuc- 
cessful cause  it  was  proper  enough  that  he  should 
recoup  himself,  if  somewhat  irregularly  and  out  of 
time,  at  the  expense  of  those  who  had  been  on  the 
enemy's  side  and  who  had  not  in  their  persons  or 
property  felt  the  struggle. 

Not  long  afterward  Gassier  went  west,  where  for 
several  years  he  knocked  about.  He  was  a  common 


260  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

laborer  on  the  construction  of  the  Union  Pacific  Rail- 
road. He  took  up  a  homestead  in  Kansas,  but 
abandoned  it  after  the  second  grasshopper  season,  and 
joined  in  the  gold  rush  to  the  Black  Hills.  He  was  un- 
successful in  the  quest  for  metal  wealth,  but  in  a 
community  where  prices  were  high  he  made  good 
income  as  a  cobbler,  the  greater  part  of  which  he  saved 
by  the  economy  of  boarding  himself  and  avoiding  the 
gaming  tables. 

He  found  much  in  the  free,  unconventional  life  of 
the  frontier  and  the  gold  camp  congenial  to  his  nature, 
but,  though  he  had  no  particular  home  in  Kentucky, 
he  often  longed  to  be  back  on  his  native  soil. 

Recollections,  too,  of  the  pretty  little  flaxen- 
haired  girl  whom  he  had  seen  at  an  hour  evil  in  all 
else  were  frequently  in  his  mind.  He  imagined  her 
growing  bigger,  still  as  sweet  and  pretty  as  ever,  and 
he  pictured  a  plain  and  reasonably  comfortable  home 
somewhere  with  her  in  it  to  delight  him,  and  in  which 
Maggie  also  would  be  treated  with  consideration.  He 
would  drop  his  rough  ways,  and  all  three  of  them  would 
be  very  happy. 

Pursuing  this  vision,  and  sick  for  this  home  in  his 
fancy  as  well  as  for  home  in  a  wider  sense,  he  returned 
to  Kentucky.  He  determined  to  have  an  interview 
with  Maggie  without  delay.  His  prudence  dictated 
that  it  should  be  clandestine.  Going  to  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  Old  Plantation,  he  chose  the  church  hour 
of  a  "service  day"  Sunday  as  being  the  most  likely 
time  at  which  he  could  see  Maggie  alone. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  261 

He  watched  the  house  and  noticed  that  as  the  time 
for  services  approached,  all  of  the  family,  apparently, 
save  Maggie,  left  home  for  the  church.  He  then 
called  at  the  house,  rapping  at  the  rear  door,  and 
Maggie  met  him  there. 

Amazement  seized  the  woman  when  she  found 
herself  face  to  face  with  the  recreant  husband  she  had 
not  seen  for  long  and  had  expected  never  to  see  again. 
She  was  not  a  little  alarmed  lest  his  appearance  por- 
tended a  change  in  the  fortunes  of  herself  and  daughter. 

Noting  her  excitement,  he  told  her  quickly  that  he 
had  not  come  to  harm  her  and  wanted  only  to  ask 
some  questions,  at  which  assurance  she  became  calm, 
and  listened  to  his  further  words  with  the  greatest 
interest. 

He  asked  if  the  girl  in  the  family  was  her  daughter, 
and  on  being  answered  he  proceeded  to  tell  Maggie 
at  length  about  his  love  for  their  child,  his  new  affection 
for  herself  (though  Gassier  was  not  quite  candid  on 
this  point),  and,  begging  her  forgiveness  for  past 
conduct,  he  presented  his  proposition  of  a  reunion. 

Old  Maggie  then  explained  to  him  fully  the  status 
of  herself  and  their  daughter  in  the  household,  and, 
though  without  comprehension  of  the  obstacle  to 
Gassler's  plan  which  lay  in  the  fact  of  Bertha's  adoption, 
she  unhesitatingly  expressed  her  opposition  to  his 
desire.  She  herself  was  perfectly  content  as  things 
were,  she  said,  and  as  for  Bertha,  the  girl  now  passed 
for  the  daughter  of  somebody  worth  while  and  would 
some  day  share  in  the  inheritance  of  a  rich  estate. 


262  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

She  also  acquainted  Gassier  with  the  fact  that  the 
girl  supposed  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Garrett  to  be  her  real 
father  and  mother. 

Gassier  told  Maggie  that  he  might  frequently  be  in 
the  neighborhood  so  that  occasionally  he  might  get 
so  much  as  a  sight  of  his  daughter,  and  that  he  would 
go  under  the  assumed  name  of  Gassier,  and  secured 
from  her  a  promise  that  she  would  never  disclose  his 
identity  or  intimate  that  she  had  ever  known  him  or 
seen  him.  He  was  then  about  to  go  when  Maggie 
asked : 

"Were  you  ever  at  the  house  before?" 

"No,"  he  replied.     "What  makes  ye  ask  that?" 

"I  wasn't  sure  but  that  you  were  here  with  several 
other  men  one  evening  a  good  many  years  ago,"  said 
Maggie.  "  I  couldn't  see  their  faces,  but  one  of  'em  had 
a  voice  that  sounded  like  yours  when  he  talked  loud, 
and  the  others  called  him  by  a  name  that  sounded  like 
Zach." 

"  T  wa'n't  me.    What  was  the  men  doin'?" 

"They  were  robbers." 

"Now,  Maggie,"  said  Gassier  pleadingly,  "I  have 
done  a  good  many  mean  things,  but  you  wouldn't 
think  I'd  been  as  bad  as  that,  would  ye?" 

"Well,  I  didn't  know,"  she  said. 

Gassier  reminded  her  of  the  promise  she  had  just 
given,  and  hurried  away,  going  directly  to  the  church. 
He  entered,  took  a  seat  near  the  door,  and  then  with 
his  eyes  searched  the  forward  part  of  the  room  for 
Bertha. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  263 

He,  of  course,  could  get  a  view  only  of  the  back  of 
her  head  until  the  service  was  over,  when,  as  she  was 
coming  down  the  aisle,  he  kept  his  eyes  intently  fixed 
upon  her.  She  noticed  his  persistent  gaze  which  was 
not  diverted  even  when  her  eyes  squarely  met  his 
and  she  thought  there  was  something  brazen  and 
impudent  in  his  stare.  He  fell  in  immediately  behind 
her  and  followed  her  out  of  the  church  where  he  con- 
tinued to  observe  her  until  she  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Garrett  got  into  their  surrey  and  drove  away.  He 
then  mounted  his  horse  and  began  his  journey  back  to 
the  little  town  on  the  Kentucky  side  of  the  river  where 
he  had  opened  a  shoemaker's  shop. 

Gassier  now  recognized  that  it  would  be  impossible 
to  realize  the  ambition  that  for  years  had  been  growing 
in  his  heart.  The  daughter  whom  he  would  like  to 
claim  was  in  law  the  daughter  of  another  man  who, 
it  was  plain  to  see,  loved  her  as  his  own,  and  Maggie, 
poor  soul,  who  had  redeemed  herself  in  her  faithless 
husband's  eyes  by  becoming  the  mother  of  a  pretty 
daughter  and  whom  he  would  now  shelter,  provide 
for  and  respect  for  the  daughter's  sake — she  had  for  a 
dozen  years  and  more  suspected  him  of  felonious  out- 
rage on  the  man  who  had  befriended  his  destitute 
wife  and  babe.  Gassier  owned  to  himself  that  he  had 
forfeited  all  the  rights  of  a  husband  and  father,  and 
though  he  might  lament  the  circumstances  that  forbade 
him  now  to  assert  them,  he  was  not  at  all  disposed 
to  question  that  the  verdict  of  the  years  was  just. 

With  the  passing  of  time  Gassler's  crime  had  lain 


264  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

heavier  and  heavier  on  his  conscience.  He  had  not 
successfully  tricked  his  moral  sense  by  calling  it  a 
"continuation  of  the  war"  or  a  belated,  but  still 
legitimate,  reprisal.  He  had  perceived  distinctly 
enough  the  hour  when  social  convention  and  civil  law 
resumed  their  sway  after  the  disorder  and  lawlessness 
of  war.  He  had  not  been  constituted  by  nature  to  be 
a  doer  of  the  darker  iniquities.  His  vices,  for  the  most 
part,  lay  well  on  the  surface,  such  as  profanity  and 
intemperance.  Fixed  in  his  heart  was  a  love  for  his 
fellows  and  reverence  for  the  Deity.  Indeed,  he  was 
peculiarly  susceptible  to  religious  influences  and  might 
have  lived  a  notably  pious  and  exemplary  life  but  for 
his  unsteadiness  of  will,  his  impulsiveness  and  quick 
temper.  He  was  a  backslider  of  oft-repeated  experi- 
ence. He  got  so  he  dreaded  to  go,  yet  was  irresistibly 
attracted,  to  convenient  campmeeting  or  revival.  He 
was  sure  to  be  one  of  the  first  fruits  of  earnest  exhor- 
tation, and  then,  the  special  influence  withdrawn, 
came  as  regularly  the  "  fall  from  grace."  In  his  earlier 
years  his  confessions  were  always  fairly  complete  and 
sincere,  but  later  there  was  one  big,  unmanageable  sin 
on  which  he  was  determined  to  keep  a  cloak.  This  was 
the  Garrett  robbery.  He  would  argue  with  it  and  seek 
to  make  it  own  itself  less  ugly,  but  every  time  it  insisted 
it  was  hideous  and  an  abhorrence  to  his  conscience. 

For  this  reason  Gassler's  successive  reconversions 
in  later  years  had  not  been  so  satisfactory  as  formerly. 
With  this  burden,  which  he  could  not  throw  off,  his 
advance  was  irresolute  and  shorter  and  his  retreat  was 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  265 

quicker.  This  finally  caused  him  sometimes  to  suc- 
cessfully avoid  exposing  himself  to  the  fervor  of 
evangelistic  eloquence  even  when  it  was  near  at  hand. 
He  expected  all  the  time  to  make  headway  against 
this  memory  and  force  the  deed  into  the  catalogue  of 
his  mere  indiscretions  or,  at  worst,  his  misdemeanors, 
but  he  found  that  he  could  not  thus  mitigate  it,  and 
that  on  the  contrary,  as  all  the  circumstances  of  that 
evening  were  over  and  over  again  recollected,  the 
wrong  he  had  done  grew  in  enormity. 

Gassier  was  startled  when  he  heard  bluntly  from 
Maggie's  own  lips  that  all  these  years  she  had  sus- 
pected him.  He  wished  he  had  asked  her  if  she  had 
ever  expressed  her  suspicion  to  anybody.  He  feared 
she  had.  When  he  went  west  he  could  not  belie  to 
himself  a  frequently  recurring  feeling  that  he  was 
going  as  a  fugitive  from  justice,  and  when  he  returned 
he  knew  that  he  was  not  without  a  notion  that  he  was 
running  some  risk  of  being  finally  detected.  He 
understood  well  enough  that  the  limitation  of  prose- 
cution had  been  passed  but  this  did  not  decrease  his 
dread  lest  one  day  he  should  be  loaded  with  popular 
odium  as  one  of  the  participants  in  the  crime. 

When  he  recognized  Maggie  on  Mr.  Garrett's  porch, 
though  he  knew  her  partial  deafness  was  to  his  advan- 
tage, yet  he  took  the  precaution  of  attempting  to 
disguise  his  voice,  and,  with  this  and  the  mask  and  a 
growth  of  beard,  he  was  confident  that  when  he  left 
she  was  none  the  wiser  as  to  his  identity  than  when 
he  came. 


266  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

His  discovery  now  of  what  was  in  her  mind  on  this 
point  alarmed  him,  and  impelled  him  to  refrain  from 
taking  up  his  trade  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Old  Plantation, 
as  he  would  have  liked  to  do  so  as  to  have  at  least  a 
stranger's  observation  of,  or  perchance  a  neighbor's 
acquaintance  with,  his  daughter.  He  feared  to  go 
nearer.  Therefore  he  resolved  to  settle  down  for  the 
present  where  he  now  was,  and  to  get  such  accounts  of 
Bertha  as  he  might  in  a  roundabout  way. 

When  Gassier  went  to  the  Good  Hope  neighborhood 
for  his  interview  with  Maggie  he  bore  in  his  mind  the 
vision  of  a  sweet-faced,  flaxen-haired  child,  whom, 
failing  to  take  account  of  the  intervening  years,  he 
expected  to  see  there  again,  and  his  surprise  was  great 
when  he  saw  departing  from  the  house  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Garrett  a  girl  of  adult  stature. 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  he  quickly  said  to  himself.  "  Think 
of  all  these  years.  She  couldn't  be  little  always." 

Still  he  felt  a  painful  disappointment  that  the  child,  of 
whom  he  had  so  often  fondly  thought,  was  past  child- 
hood, and  keenly  regretted  that  she  had  made  so  fast  and 
so  far  a  progress  in  life  without  the  slightest  companion- 
ship with  him.  He  had  never  heard  a  word  addressed 
to  him  from  her  lips.  He  had  touched  her  life  but  once 
and  had  then  drawn  forth  only  a  scream  of  fright. 

At  the  church,  as  she  passed  down  the  aisle,  he 
stood,  undiverted  by  anything,  in  full  admiration  of 
her  beauty  and  in  half-skeptical,  self-congratulatory 
wonder  that  so  lovely  a  being  could  have  had  an  origin 
even  partly  in  himself. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  267 

This  was  the  vision  he  brought  away,  but  it  did  not 
wholly  crowd  out  the  other,  and  by  exercise  of  the 
imagination  alone  he  added  still  another,  that  of  an 
infant  in  arms.  He  was  fond  of  occupying  his  mind 
with  these,  seeking  thus  to  get  a  conception  of  Bertha's 
life  in  its  continuity  from  babyhood  until  now,  supply- 
ing from  his  own  fancy  a  record  inevitably  lacking  to 
his  memory. 

Hearing,  after  some  time,  that  Rev.  Charles  Warner, 
the  pastor  of  the  Baptist  church  in  this  place,  and 
who  lived  here,  also  had  the  charge  at  Good  Hope,  he 
improved  the  first  opportunity  to  invite  him  into  his 
shop,  and  without  showing  a  particular  personal 
interest,  to  engage  him  in  conversation  about  the 
prominent  families  in  his  congregation  north  of  the 
river.  He  soon  learned  all  that  the  preacher  had  to 
tell  about  the  Garretts,  and  fully  agreed  with  him  that 
it  was  a  most  interesting  family. 

Gassier  plied  him  with  questions  about  Bertha, 
making  her  singular  situation,  which  the  preacher  had 
explained,  the  excuse  for  his  curiosity,  and  he  was 
pleased  to  learn  from  Brother  Warner  that  she  was 
universally  regarded  as  a  remarkably  attractive  and 
accomplished  young  lady.  While,  the  preacher  said, 
this  was  due  in  part  to  the  advantages  of  her  situation, 
yet  her  beauty  and  talents  must  have  been  natural 
endowments,  and,  since  her  mother  was  a  very  common 
sort  of  woman,  it  was  thought  that  her  father  must 
have  been  a  man  of  some  superiority. 

The  preacher  could  see  that  Gassier  was  very  much 


268  IN    THE    TWILIGHT     ZONE 

pleased  with  this  remark,  but  he  took  it  only  as  evidence 
that  he  was  a  sympathetic  listener,  and  thought  no 
more  about  it. 

"And  if  he  had  known,"  continued  the  preacher, 
"  that  he  was  to  have  so  fine  a  daughter,  I  don't  think 
he  would  have  abandoned  her  mother  and  her,  too, 
before  her  birth." 

"Well,  I  reckon  he  wouldn't,"  said  Gassier,  as  if 
such  conduct  were  absolutely  unthinkable. 

"And,  say,"  cried  the  preacher  mischievously,  "he 
must  have  been  some  tribesman  of  yours.  His  name 
was  Crowell.  Old  Maggie's  name  is  Mrs.  Crowell. 
'Fess  up." 

"  Well,  if  they'll  give  the  girl  and  the  woman  to  any 
man  of  my  name  that'll  claim  'em,"  said  Gassier 
(who  went  by  his  real  name  at  this  place) ,  "  I'd  better 
put  in  a  bid,  hadn't  I?"  And  then,  affecting  a  return 
from  levity  to  seriousness:  "Never  heard  anything 
about  the  feller  in  that  part  of  the  country,  eh?" 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Warner,  shaking  his  head.  "No- 
body there  knows  anything  about  him.  His  wife 
completely  lost  him  when  he  went  off  to  the  war. 
You  were  in  the  army,  too,  weren't  you?  Oh,  I  guess 
it's  you." 

"  Does  look  as  if  you  were  makin'  out  a  case  against 
me,  don't  it?  Well,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  wouldn't  be  a 
carin'  much  if  you  did  if  that  girl's  all  you're  crackin' 
her  up  to  be.  Woman  never  speaks  of  him?" 

"Never  heard  her  mention  his  name,  or  anybody 
else  in  that  neighborhood/'  said  Warner.  "I  don't 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  269 

believe  half  the  people  up  there  know  her  name's 
Crowell.  I  had  almost  forgotten  it  myself.  She's 
just  simply  Old  Maggie." 

"Well  enough  if  he  was  that  sort  of  a  feller,"  said 
Gassier  with  a  satisfaction  which  Warner  observed  but 
did  not  comprehend,  for  it  arose  from  Gassler's  assur- 
ance now  that  Old  Maggie  had  not  expressed  her 
suspicion  to  anybody,  since,  if  she  had  done  so  even 
a  long  time  ago,  thought  he,  the  name  of  her  husband 
would  not  yet  be  forgotten.  And  he  was  emboldened 
to  press  the  point  a  trifle  further. 

"And  that  there  robbery"  (for  he  had  been  told 
about  that,  too),  "they  never  got  the  least  track  of 
the  fellers?" 

"I  never  heard  that  they  ever  had  a  clue  to  any  of 
them,"  said  Brother  Warner. 

"You've  got  me  right  smart  interested  in  that  'ere 
family,"  said  Gassier,  "and  since  you  see  'em  once  a 
month  or  oftener  you'll  have  to  keep  me  posted  on 
'em  or  I'll  have  to  move  up  there  myself." 

And  after  that,  whenever  the  preacher  returned  from 
filling  his  appointment  at  Good  Hope  it  would  not  be 
long  before  he  was  in  the  shoemaker's  shop  giving 
Gassier  the  latest  news  about  the  Garretts,  and  it  so 
happened  that  the  greater  part  of  his  report  always 
had  reference  particularly  to  Miss  Bertha  Garrett,  as 
naturally,  indeed,  there  would  be  more  to  say  about 
an  engaging  and  talented  girl,  already  maturing  early 
into  womanhood,  than  about  the  elder  or  the  absent 
members  of  the  family. 


270  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Noticing  how  frequently  the  preacher  called  at  the 
shop  of  the  shoemaker  and  how  long,  sometimes,  he 
stayed,  the  people  of  the  place  wondered  what  hidden 
affinity  existed  between  these  diverse  characters. 
But  it  was  pleasing  to  both  the  righteous  and  the 
wicked,  to  the  former  because  showing  that  their 
Christian  teacher,  like  his  divine  Master,  was  conde- 
scending enough  to  consort  with  sinners,  and  to  the 
latter  as  testifying  that  they  must  be  pretty  good 
company  after  all. 

The  two  friends  came  to  be  spoken  of  as  cronies, 
and  so  full  and  satisfactory  were  the  reports  that 
Gassier  thus  received  of  his  daughter  that  he  finally 
abandoned,  as  he  believed,  the  intention  of  some  day 
removing  to  the  vicinity  of  the  Old  Plantation. 

One  day,  just  home  from  Good  Hope,  Brother 
Warner  showed  him  a  photograph  of  Bertha.  He 
seized  it  from  the  preacher's  hand  and  looked  at  it 
long  and  intently. 

"Mighty  fine  lookin'  gal,"  said  he.  "Fine  as  they 
make  'em.  Guess  you  haven't  stretched  things  any 
in  talkin'  about  her." 

And  the  preacher  was  astonished  at  seeing  a  tear  in 
Gassler's  eye — just  a  single  tear  that  did  not  trickle,  but 
all  Brother  Warner  could  see  in  it  was  that  the  shoe- 
maker was  emotionally  impressionable  to  real  womanly 
loveliness,  and  probably  loveliness  in  any  form. 

Gassier  begged  to  keep  the  picture. 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  let  you  have  it,"  said  Brother 
Warner.  "Only  one  I  have." 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  271 

"But  you  can  easily  get  another.  They'll  let  a 
preacher  have  anything." 

"But  it  would  be  unpardonable  for  me  to  give  her 
photograph  to  a  stranger.  And  what  could  I  say  to 
her?" 

"Tell  her  you  lost  it." 

And,  overborne  by  persistency  and  intensity  of 
importunity,  Brother  Warner,  half  fearing  that  Gassier, 
who  still  held  the  photograph  in  his  hand,  would  go  to 
the  length  of  retaining  it,  by  force,  finally  consented. 

"Does  look  funny,"  said  Gassier  when  Brother 
Warner  came  into  the  shop  for  the  first  time  after  the 
photograph  had  been  placed  there,  "for  an  old  man 
like  me" — he  was  still  under  forty — "to  have  the 
picture  of  a  big  gal  that  I  never  see  hangin'  there,  but, 
Mr.  Warner,  I  jest  couldn't  help  it — she's  such  a 
handsome  gal." 

But  the  youthful  divine  smiled  only  feebly  at  this 
explanation,  and  could  hold  no  easy  conversation  with 
the  shoemaker  for  jealousy.  This  was  the  beginning 
of  a  coldness  between  them  or,  rather,  on  Mr.  Warner's 
part  alone  toward  Gassier.  The  latter  noticed  the 
change  very  soon  but  could  not  account  for  it. 
Several  times  he  tested  Brother  Warner  to  see  if  he 
was  not  mistaken,  but  the  preacher  would  not  respond 
to  his  friendly  advances. 

The  preacher  ceased  coming  to  the  shop,  and  when 
it  chanced  that  he  and  Gassier  met  he  never  had  time 
to  exchange  more  than  a  few  words.  Gassier  wondered 
what  the  reason  might  be.  He  supposed  that  perhaps 


272  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

in  their  last  extended  conversation  he  had  told  some 
uncommonly  coarse  joke  that  was  unpardonably 
offensive  in  the  pious  ear  of  the  parson  or  that  the 
latter  had  at  length  found  himself  degraded  in  the 
estimation  of  the  elect  by  the  frequency  of  his  asso- 
ciation with  one  so  often  profane  and  impure  of  word. 

This  painful  relation  between  the  two  existed  for 
several  weeks  and  was  happily  reformed  by  the  events 
of  a  "protracted  meeting."  Rev.  Charles  Warner 
made  nightly  raids  into  the  domains  of  Satan,  and 
one  of  his  first  captives  was  Gassier.  In  explaining  it 
afterwards  the  cobbler  said  he  believed  it  was  all  in 
the  way  the  preacher  said  "  the  heavenly  Je-rooz-alum." 

"I  couldn't  help  it,"  said  Gassier.  "I  jest  had  to 
start  for  the  place  again." 

And  he  was  resolved  this  time  to  cast  aside  every 
weight.  He  would  make  a  general  confession  of  his 
sins  in  public,  as  he  had  done  heretofore,  and  besides 
he  would  acknowledge  to  Brother  Warner  the  big  sin 
of  his  life.  In  doing  so  he  would  tell  him  also  his 
relation  to  Miss  Garrett. 

This  program  he  carried  out,  and  was  at  first  so 
well  pleased  with  his  performance  that  he  insisted 
on  being  baptized  again  after  the  Baptist  manner  of 
immersion,  though  he  had  once  before  submitted 
himself  to  this  sacrament,  administered  in  the  same 
way,  at  the  hands  of  a  Campbellite  minister. 

Brother  Warner  was,  of  course,  astonished  at  the 
revelation  made  to  him,  and  congratulated  Gassier 
that  he  had  at  last  relieved  his  conscience  of  so  black 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  273 

a  secret.  It  may  be  that  the  joy  the  preacher  felt 
should  have  been  purely  that  which  he  might  share 
with  Heaven  over  a  sinner  that  had  repented,  but 
nevertheless,  he  experienced  an  intense  satisfaction 
on  his  own  individual  account,  for  there  was  no  longer 
any  reason  for  him  to  be  annoyed  because  Bertha's 
picture  hung  on  the  rude  wall  of  Gassler's  shop  in  full 
view  as  he  worked  at  his  bench,  and  since  Gassier  had 
taken  him  into  his  confidence  in  his  professional 
capacity  as  a  spiritual  adviser,  he  was  moved  to  recip- 
rocate with  a  confidence  of  an  entirely  personal 
character.  So  he  told  him  that  he  hoped  some  day  to 
make  Bertha  his  wife.  He  further  told  him  that  he 
had  not  yet  declared  his  love,  she  was  yet  so  young; 
that  there  was  plenty  of  time  for  that. 

Meanwhile,  he  was  contriving  only  that  she  should 
become  well  acquainted  with  him,  and  seeking  only 
to  prepare  the  way  for  her  to  love  him.  At  this  he 
flattered  himself  he  was  making  good  progress. 

Gassier  appeared  to  be  greatly  pleased  with  the 
prospect,  though  obviously  indefinite,  the  preacher 
thus  unveiled.  For  his  part,  he  said,  he  didn't  know 
what  better  any  girl  could  do  than  become  the  help- 
meet of  a  minister  of  the  gospel.  Surely  it  was  exactly 
the  fortune  he  would  choose  for  a  daughter  of  his. 

Then  the  two  conversed  as  to  what  would  be 
Gassler's  further  duty  in  the  matter  of  the  great 
wrong  he  had  done  to  Mr.  Garrett.  In  this  direction 
the  preacher  laid  out  no  harsh  road  for  the  penitent 
and  the  future  father-in-law  to  follow.  He  counselled 


274  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

him  that,  since  the  crime  had  grown  too  old  for  the 
cognizance  of  the  law,  all  that  could  remain  were  the 
moral  acquitments.  These  were  an  acknowledgment 
of  his  wrong  to  the  person  wronged  and  a  restitution 
of  damages.  But  in  this  case  the  circumstances  were 
peculiar.  Gassier  (or  Crowell,  as  the  preacher  and 
everybody  else  yet  called  him)  could  not  in  his  own 
proper  name  of  Crowell  go  to  Mr.  Garrett  and  own  his 
fault  and  ask  forgiveness,  without  raising  possible 
inquiries  regarding  his  relation  to  Old  Maggie,  if  not 
provoking  positive  information  from  her,  that  might 
work  immense  mischief  to  all  the  hearts  in  that  house- 
hold. And,  if  not  this,  it  was  quite  likely  that  the 
identity  and  contrition  of  the  robber,  after  all  these 
years,  would  not  compensate  Mr.  Garrett  for  the  pain 
the  robber's  presence  would  cause,  arousing  again  the 
specter  of  a  wellnigh  forgotten  horror,  reviving  the 
old  burning  sense  of  the  indignity. 

As  to  restitution,  it  would  have  been  well  if  Gassier 
could  have  clandestinely  returned  the  stolen  money; 
might  be  well  if  he  could  still  do  so,  and  yet  in  this 
respect  had  not  circumstances  made  something  like 
restitution  for  him?  Were  not  his  wife  and  his  now 
dearly  beloved  daughter  members  of  the  Garrett 
family,  the  first  in  the  very  useful  capacity  of  domestic 
and  the  second  filling  a  void  in  the  hearts  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Garrett  that  the  death  of  their  own  daughter  had 
left?  And  were  not  these  relations  on  such  terms  as 
precluded  a  now  yearning  husband  and  father  from 
returning  to  his  own?  After  all,  too,  the  amount 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  275 

stolen  was  trifling  when  the  wealth  of  the  loser 
was  considered.  In  ordinary  cases  a  personal  avowal 
of  the  wrong  and  full  material  amends  were  required 
by  the  moral  law,  but  in  this  instance  their  omission 
seemed  to  be  dictated  by  the  wholly  unusual  circum- 
stances. 

Gassier  was  surprised  at  the  leniency  of  the  spiritual 
tribunal  to  which  he  had  committed  himself,  for  it  had 
been  his  understanding  that  no  lapses  or  waivers 
modified  the  operation  of  the  moral  statutes,  and, 
though  he  felt  a  willingness  to  do  some  heroic  penance, 
he  was  greatly  relieved  to  be  spared  the  shame  and 
mortification  of  a  personal  acknowledgment  to  Mr. 
Garrett  of  his  trespass  and  his  identity. 

The  preacher  was  touched  by  the  predicament  of 
the  unhappy  man,  thus  now  beginning  to  suffer  from 
the  forfeiture  of  all  paternal  rights  and  the  lack  of  the 
least  requital  of  belated  but  fervent  fatherly  affection, 
and  he  promised  him  he  would  do  all  he  could  to  bring 
him  into  a  personal  acquaintanceship  with  his  daughter 
if  Gassier  would  be  careful  to  abstain  from  showing 
by  any  sign  his  special  interest  in  her.  He  assented 
to  Gassler's  plan,  now  revived,  of  going  to  the  Good 
Hope  neighborhood  and  living  under  the  assumed 
name  he  had  told  Old  Maggie  he  would  go  by,  and  the 
preacher  said  he  would  himself  caution  the  woman 
never  to  break,  through  forgetfulness  or  surprise,  the 
compact  of  secrecy  into  which  she  had  entered. 

In  this  situation  Gassier  might  often  see  his  child 
and  occasionally  converse  with  her.  And  when  Brother 


276  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Warner  should  make  Bertha  his  wife,  possibly  before, 
he  would  be  in  a  position  to  prepare  her  for  the  know- 
ledge of  her  true  parentage,  and  so  open  the  way  at  last 
for  some  sort  of  intimacy  between  her  and  her  real 
father. 

So  satisfactory  a  prospect  even  as  this  had  never 
been  definitely  outlined  in  Gassler's  mind.  He  at 
once  agreed  to  the  condition  imposed.  Bertha  was 
now  at  Granville  to  spend  a  school  year  in  the  seminary, 
and  when  she  returned  in  the  early  summer  she  found 
by  the  side  of  the  familiar  rural  postofnce  a  shoe- 
maker's shop  and  a  man  gazing  at  her  from  the  door 
whose  stare  had  annoyed  her  at  the  church  a  year 
before. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

GASSLER'S  STRIVINGS. 

ON  mail  days,  which  were  three  in  the  week,  Bertha 
usually  went  to  the  postoffice  on  her  pony,  and  Gassier 
never  failed  to  be  on  the  look-out  for  her.  When  it 
was  about  time  for  her  to  arrive  he  would  leave  his 
shop  and  go  into  the  postoffice  where,  as  if  tarrying 
after  receiving  his  own  mail  or  stopping  to  chat,  he 
had  an  excellent  opportunity  to  get  a  near  view  of 
Bertha  and  hear  the  sound  of  her  voice. 

She  was  conscious  always  that  he  was  closely  ob- 
serving her  and  sometimes  a  glance  at  him  would 
reveal  to  her  an  expression  of  pleasure  and  kindness 
in  his  face.  Such  conduct  in  a  younger  and  more 
refined  man  might  have  pleased  her  vanity,  of  which, 
however,  she  had  no  larger  a  portion  than  any  other 
comely  young  woman,  but  in  a  man  apparently  of  the 
vulgar  sort,  a  total  stranger  and  of  more  than  twice 
her  own  age  it  was  offensive,  and  her  resentment  was 
deepened  on  her  noticing  that  her  glance  never  put 
him  out  of  countenance,  but  he  would  look  at  her  still 
as  if  hoping  or  expecting  she  would  speak. 

If  Gassier  was  not  at  the  postoffice  his  face  would 
be  seen  at  the  door  or  window  of  his  shop,  with  his 
eyes  always  on  Bertha.  Or  if  others  happened  to  be 
standing  outside  the  postoffice  near  the  hitching  posts 

277 


278  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

he  would  be  among  them.  Once  he  offered  to  hold 
Bertha's  pony  while  she  went  in  for  her  mail,  but  she 
rejected  his  offer  with  no  consideration  at  all  and  for 
the  first  time  showed  so  plainly  the  contempt  for  him 
that  had  been  growing  in  her  mind  from  the  first  that 
the  man  could  not  mistake  it.  He  retreated  quickly 
to  his  shop.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that  his  daughter 
despised  her  unknown  father,  and  he  could  not  imagine 
why,  unless  an  over-refinement,  due  to  her  bringing 
up  in  a  wealthy  family,  caused  her  to  look  with  disdain 
upon  those  in  common  or  poor  circumstances. 

On  the  preacher's  next  visit  to  the  neighborhood 
Gassier  described  Bertha's  demeanor  toward  him  with 
deep  pain  and  discouragement,  and  the  preacher,  not 
knowing,  of  course,  what  Gassler's  behavior  toward 
Bertha  had  been,  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the 
girl's  feeling. 

But  at  church  that  day  by  observing  Gassier  through- 
out the  meeting  he  obtained  a  hint  of  the  cause,  and 
after  talking  to  Bertha  at  her  home  he  fully  understood 
the  situation.  For  she  entertained  him  with  a  descrip- 
tion of  "the  new  settler"  and  the  annoyance  she  had 
suffered  from  his  habit  of  undivertible  staring. 

Brother  Warner  promptly  communicated  to  Gassier 
the  solution  of  his  perplexity,  and  the  shoemaker  was 
surprised  that  he  had  not  himself  perceived  that  the 
avidity  with  which  he  had  improved  occasions  to 
look  upon  his  daughter  had  carried  him  quite  beyond 
the  limits  of  good  manners.  He  was  relieved  to  find 
that  her  disdain  was  not  due  to  her  haughtiness,  nor, 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  279 

in  the  preacher's  opinion,  was  it  a  discipline  of  Provi- 
dence, and  so  he  felt  very  confident  he  could  correct 
her  disposition  toward  him. 

Gassier  spent  the  following  day  in  town,  and  on 
next  mail  day  he  was  wearing  a  new  suit  of  clothes, 
stiff  linen  shirt  and  collar,  and  was  freshly  shaved, 
for  he  had  bethought  him  that  it  was  important  to 
present  no  physical  repugnance  to  Bertha's  eye. 
When  his  idol  appeared  at  the  office  he  was  careful 
that  she  should  see  him  and  as  careful  not  to  look 
once  in  her  direction. 

For  a  time  he  was  very  resolute  and  successful  in 
carrying  out  this  policy,  but  at  last,  in  the  entire 
absence  of  the  normal  relation  between  parent  and 
child,  without  a  single  one  of  the  ordinary  occasions  of 
communication  between  them,  and  yet  with  a  paternal 
love  of  belated  growth  becoming  fonder  each  day  and 
constantly  yearning  for  some  sort  of  satisfaction, 
Gassier  unconsciously  fell  back  into  the  old  way  of 
using  practically  the  only  avenue  of  cognition  open  to 
him — the  visual  sense. 

He  was  perhaps  more  cautious  and  furtive  in  the 
use  of  his  eyes  than  before,  but  not  sufficiently  so  to 
keep  out  of  Bertha's  mind  a  constant  and  deep  im- 
pression of  his  impertinence.  Besides,  he  again  took 
to  being  in  the  postoffice  when  she  entered,  so  as 
merely  to  hear  the  sound  of  her  voice  as  she  exchanged 
commonplace  or  badinage  with  the  postmaster  or  his 
wife,  a  contiguity  which  aggravated  in  her  the  sense 
of  his  espionage.  The  girl  soon  learned,  too,  to  refrain 


280  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

at  such  times  from  making  any  remarks  in  a  light 
vein,  for  her  feeblest  attempt  at  humor  was  sure 
to  provoke  audible  and  unwelcome  appreciation  from 
the  shoemaker. 

The  preacher  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  strove 
quite  valiantly  in  conversation  with  Bertha  to  exalt 
Gassier  in  her  opinion,  emphasizing  the  good  traits  in 
his  character,  and  finding  excuses  for  his  manners  in 
the  rough  life  he  had  led,  first  in  the  army  and  then 
in  the  mining  camp,  and  in  his  lack  of  home  and  family 
associations,  but  Bertha  continued  to  speak  of  him  as 
a  boor.  She  described  Gassler's  conduct  more  fully 
and  expressed  her  aversion  more  freely  to  Abner 
Garrett,  who,  however,  treated  the  matter  lightly. 

"Why,  I'd  look  at  you  that  way,  too,"  said  he,  "if 
I  didn't  have  a  chance  to  see  you  any  oftener  than  he 
does.  He  thinks  you  are  the  loveliest  girl  he  ever 
saw,  and  I  think  he's  correct.  No  doubt  it  does  him 
good  to  look  at  you.  Pay  no  attention  to  him  and 
let  him  look." 

But  she  had  a  sentiment  regarding  Gassier  which 
she  did  not  express  even  to  Mr.  Garrett.  It  was  not 
very  definite  in  her  own  mind,  but  was  akin  to  fear  of 
him  as  having  some  sinister  purpose  toward  her. 

When  Bertha  went  to  College  Hill  in  the  fall  she 
was  therefore  little  less  than  startled  one  day  at  a 
sight  of  Gassier  entering  a  shoemaker's  shop  which 
she  presently  learned  was  his  own,  recently  opened 
with  the  intention  of  dividing  his  time  between  College 
Hill  and  the  Good  Hope  neighborhood. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  281 

Here,  by  attending  church  and  Sunday  school  in 
the  college  chapel,  Gassier  could  see  his  daughter  once 
a  week  and  could  hear  her  voice  in  song  and  her  re- 
sponses in  class.  He  joined  the  adult  Bible  class, 
in  which  she  sat,  and  so  felt  that  at  last  there  was  one 
feeble  visible  bond  between  him  and  her.  They  were 
fellow  pupils  taking  instruction  in  the  Scriptures 
under  the  saintly  tutelage  of  Prof.  Bland. 

In  the  chapel  Gassier  often  turned  to  the  person 
who  was  sitting  next  to  him  to  praise  Bertha's  singing 
or  her  reply  or  remark  of  other  character  in  class,  and 
the  admiring  manner  in  which  he  invariably  regarded 
her  when  within  his  view  did  not  go  without  common 
notice,  nor  had  he  been  at  College  Hill  two  months 
before  it  was  recognized  as  his  habit  at  all  times,  when 
talking  with  persons  who  had  recently  made  Miss 
Garrett's  acquaintance,  to  urge  their  assent  to 
eulogiums  of  her  which  his  own  mouth  freely  uttered. 
And  so  it  came  to  be  whispered  about  with  merriment 
that  the  shoemaker,  silly  old  bachelor,  was  smitten 
with  the  indeed  very  interesting  and  attractive  school 
girl  from  down  the  country. 

Until  her  friends  joked  her  on  this  account  Bertha 
had  never  had  it  in  her  mind  that  Gassler's  conduct 
might  be  interpreted  as  exhibiting  an  infatuation  with 
her.  If  she  could  have  fully  accepted  this  explanation 
of  his  actions  it  might  have  relieved  her  of  those 
indefinite  suspicions  of  unknown  purposes  in  him 
which  she  had  herself  formed  and  by  which  she  was 
sometimes  depressed.  She  did,  indeed,  occasionally 


282  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

laugh  with  others  over  her  "first  conquest,"  but 
when  her  thought  upon  the  subject  was  serious  the 
fearful  feeling  that  she  was  being  shadowed  by  this 
strange  man  was  as  strong  as  ever. 

She  avoided  him  as  much  as  possible.  He  had 
never  received  an  introduction  to  her.  Probably  he 
had  never  thought  about  a  formal  introduction,  but 
he  improved  the  first  opportunity  that  their  attendance 
at  the  same  Sunday  school  and  in  the  same  class 
afforded  to  speak  to  her.  She  allowed  no  light  in  her 
countenance  as  she  recognized  him  with  a  slight  and 
begrudged  bow.  Their  salutations  were  not  frequent, 
for  Bertha  was  constantly  on  her  guard  to  prevent 
them,  and  they  did  not  improve  in  character  of  cor- 
diality over  the  first  exchange. 

Privately  the  shoemaker  felt  Bertha's  coldness  to 
the  center  of  his  heart  and  at  length  grew  discouraged 
in  his  attempt  to  cultivate  an  acquaintanceship  of 
ordinary  friendliness  with  his  daughter. 

Going  once  to  Good  Hope  to  meet  Brother  Warner 
when  the  latter  had  an  appointment  there,  Gassier 
besought  the  preacher  to  give  him  leave  to  make  known 
his  identity  to  Garrett — which  would  not  necessarily 
imply  a  revelation  that  he  committed  the  robbery— 
and  implore  Garrett  to  grant  him  an  unobstructed 
opportunity  to  openly  persuade  his  wife  and  child  to 
return  to  him.  He  thought  it  possible,  once  Bertha 
knew  he  was  her  father,  that  she  might  soon  conceive 
a  natural  affection  for  him  and  for  her  real  mother 
that  would  promote  the  reunion  of  the  little  family. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  283 

The  preacher  pronounced  this  but  a  dream.  He 
again  described  to  him  Bertha's  love  for  Mr.  Garrett 
and  Mr.  Garrett's  for  her,  saying  that  to  disturb  the 
girl's  illusion  and  the  sweet  affections  built  upon  it 
would  be  equivalent  to  bereaving  a  father  of  his 
daughter  and  a  daughter  of  her  father,  and  that  instead 
of  transferring  Bertha's  filial  affection  to  himself  he 
might  be  certain  only  of  incurring  her  bitterest  resent- 
ment. 

It  would  be  perpetrating  upon  Mr.  Garrett  an 
outrage  worse  than  the  robbery  of  years  ago,  and  if, 
as  might  happen  through  Maggie's  denunciation  or 
otherwise,  his  connection  with  that  affair  were  brought 
to  light,  the  shadow  of  his  disgrace  would  fall  heavily 
on  the  very  person  whose  character  in  all  respects  he 
should  be  most  anxious  to  save  from  any  hazard  or 
reproach. 

Brother  Warner  reminded  Gassier  again  that,  as  he 
had  no  legal  claims  on  his  wife  and  daughter,  so  also 
he  had  no  moral  claims,  and  ought  not  to  be  selfish 
enough  to  desire  to  change  in  the  least  their  happy 
situation.  He  urged  him  to  discipline  himself  to 
patience  and  wait  until  the  situation  itself  should  be 
inevitably  changed  by  time. 

This  counsel  subdued  Gassler's  desperation,  and  he 
returned  with  the  intention  of  abandoning  special 
efforts  to  direct  to  himself  a  share  of  the  smiles  and 
pleasant  words  which  Bertha  had  in  varying  measure 
for  her  acquaintances,  or  to  secure  an  occasional 
friendly  interview  with  his  daughter.  He  had  himself 


284  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

been  twitted  with  a  fondness  for  Miss  Garrett,  exhibited 
with  less  reserve  than  a  younger  man  would  have 
sought  to  maintain,  and  it  was  judged  from  his  com- 
portment under  such  chaffing  that  it  teased  him  as  it 
might  a  boy.  It  did,  indeed,  grate  upon  him,  but  for 
reasons  which  his  tormentors  little  imagined. 

Sacred  and  vital  as  was  his  passion  for  his  child,  he 
could  show  it,  then,  only  in  such  a  way  as  made  him 
the  butt  of  jest! 

He  resolved  that  no  longer  should  the  tender,  grave 
and  noble  ambition  which  preoccupied  him,  uncom- 
prehended  and  unsuspected  by  others,  furnish  but 
material  for  ridicule.  He  was  sick  at  heart.  His 
mental  state  led  him  to  be  less  careful  than  for  some 
time  he  had  been  of  his  personal  conduct,  and  the 
reports  of  his  being  often  in  the  well-worn  seats  of 
the  ungodly  in  the  rear  of  one  of  the  village  stores  or 
in  the  blacksmith  shop,  and  of  his  having  been  in  the 
company  of  those  returning  boisterous  from  the 
larger  town  caused  the  saints  of  the  place  to  shake 
their  heads  gravely. 

Gassier  continued  to  attend  church  and  Sunday 
school,  which,  in  the  opinion  of  the  elect,  was  much  in 
his  favor,  half  scandalized  though  they  were  by  it,  for 
it  showed  that  in  his  nature  there  was  still  protest 
against  being  led  captive  by  Satan.  The  truth  is 
that,  while  Gassier  sometimes  tarried  long  in  conver- 
sation in  the  store  of  an  evening,  if  he  was  not  busy 
in  his  shop,  he  was  in  a  mixed  company  of  good,  bad 
and  indifferent,  all  of  whom  were  managing  somehow  to 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  285 

make  their  own  living  and  none  of  whom  had  ever 
been  in  jail. 

Gassier  was  successful  in  refraining  in  public  from 
taking  any  notice  of  Bertha  that  might  attract  par- 
ticular attention,  but  often,  as  she  passed  on  one 
street  or  another  in  view  from  his  shop  (for  from  the 
shop  one  could  see  a  large  part  of  the  village),  he 
stealthily  observed  her  through  his  window,  and 
frequently  at  other  times  one  looking  in  at  the  window 
might  have  caught  the  shoemaker  fondly  scanning  a 
photograph  of  Miss  Garrett  which  he  had  just  taken 
from  an  old  leathern  pocketbook  in  his  coat. 

Bertha  had  a  feeling  of  relief  when  Gassler's  eyes 
ceased  to  be  constantly  turned  her  way  on  public 
occasions,  and  with  a  continuation  of  his  indifference 
believed  that  the  motive  of  his  singular  conduct, 
whatever  it  might  have  been,  had  lost  its  force,  but 
she  was  troubled  anew,  a  day  after  going  home  for  the 
Christmas  vacation  of  two  weeks,  to  learn  that  Gassier 
had  decided  to  spend  the  coming  fortnight,  or  such  a 
matter,  mending  the  shoes  of  people  in  the  Good  Hope 
neighborhood.  When  the  two  weeks  were  past  and 
Bertha  had  returned  to  school  he  "would  be  kept 
busier"  at  College  Hill.  He  was  apparently  as  in- 
different to  Bertha  as  of  late  he  had  been,  but  these 
coincident  moves  revived  in  her  mind  the  unpleasant 
suspicion  that  he  was  keeping  a  watch  on  her. 

Early  in  the  school  year  Gassier  and  Jim  Pressley 
had  become  acquainted.  Jim  liked  to  hear  Gassier 
tell  war  stories  as  well  as  to  listen  to  his  interesting 


286  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

conversation  on  common  affairs.  The  youth  was 
fond,  too,  of  watching  the  shoemaker  at  his  work,  and 
he  therefore  often  dropped  in  to  sit  for  a  while  in  the 
shop.  Gassier  was  well  pleased  with  his  society  and 
many  a  time  felt  flattered  by  the  apparently  lively 
interest  shown  in  his  views  of  affairs  of  all  sorts  by  so 
bright  and  intelligent  a  young  man.  Pressley  was  one 
of  those  who  were  drafted  by  Gassier  to  fully  agree 
to  statements  made  by  himself  in  praise  of  Miss  Garrett, 
and  the  enthusiasm  with  which  Pressley  did  so  also 
contributed  to  his  advancement  in  Gassler's  esteem. 
Pressley  believed  that  Gassier  was  foolishly  infatuated 
with  the  girl  until  one  day,  when  Gassier  had  been 
complimenting  her  and  Pressley  had  been  assenting, 
the  shoemaker  said  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye : 

"  But  no  chance  for  you.     I  think  she's  spoken  for." 

"Who?"  asked  Pressley. 

"  Oh,  I  can't  say  who,  but  it's  not  me.  I'm  in  love 
with  her,  but  jest  as  a  friend  of  the  family,  you  know. 
I'm  afraid,  though,  that  she  don't  like  me  as  well  as 
she'd  ought  to." 

And  then  Pressley  concluded  the  shoemaker  was, 
after  all,  only  a  friend  of  the  family,  but  an  unusually 
ardent  and,  as  one  might  say,  disinterested  admirer 
of  this  particular  member  of  it. 

Pressley,  too,  had  been  thus  far  a  disinterested 
admirer  of  Miss  Garrett,  as  much  so  as  any  free  youth 
of  ordinary  susceptibility  can  be  of  a  fascinating  young 
woman  into  whose  society  he  is  thrown,  but  late  in 
the  winter  it  was  plain  enough  that  he  was  seeking  to 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  287 

become,  temporarily  or  permanently,  the  special 
beneficiary  of  her  gracious  attentions. 

Gassier,  affecting  the  listless  manner  of  some  gossips, 
made  careful  inquiry  about  this  matter  from  students  of 
his  acquaintance  as  he  met  them,  and  observed  for 
himself  as  well  as  he  might  whenever  opportunity 
offered.  Though  he  had  never  discussed  with  Brother 
Warner  the  progress  of  the  friendship  between  the 
preacher  and  Bertha,  he  had  supposed  that  of  course 
the  pastor  knew  exactly  what  he  was  about  and  had 
his  tender  enterprise  all  well  in  hand.  It  had  never  en- 
tered his  head  that  there  might  be  any  reluctance  on 
Bertha's  part  to  put  herself  for  life  under  such  safe 
and  saintly  care  as  that  of  a  minister  of  the  gospel, 
and  since  Brother  Warner's  first  announcement  on  the 
subject  Gassier  had  considered  Bertha  as  practically 
betrothed. 

He  was,  therefore,  not  disposed  to  believe  at  first 
that  the  relations  between  her  and  Pressley  would 
become  more  than  very  friendly,  but  the  reports  of 
others  and  his  own  limited  observation  convinced  him 
ere  long  that  Miss  Garrett  was  acting  as  if  her  heart 
were  still  all  her  own,  to  be  disposed  of  according  to  her 
inclination.  She  and  Pressley  were  much  together 
out  of  class  at  school.  He  was  often  her  escort  to  the 
literary  society  or  to  an  evening  party,  and  when 
spring  was  come  they  took  walks  together  on  Sunday 
afternoons. 

This  might  all  be  true  without  making  Miss  Garrett 
false  to  the  preacher,  if  she  were  promised,  but  Gassier 


288  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

feared  his  reckoning  was  wrong  somewhere,  and  went 
to  Good  Hope  next  appointment  day  to  compare 
notes  with  the  minister.  Perhaps  the  minister  knew 
all  about  it. 

But  "Brother  Charlie"  knew  nothing  about  it. 
However,  he  made  light  of  it,  yet  he  said  that  perhaps 
he  had  made  a  mistake  in  not  definitely  expressing  to 
Bertha  what  was  in  his  heart.  He  was  sure,  neverthe- 
less, that  she  had  divined  it  and  would  be  fully  ready 
to  meet  a  plain  statement  of  his  affection.  He  would 
make  it  at  the  first  opportunity  and  thus  get  the 
tender  matter  finally  settled. 

Gassier  was  disappointed  at  this  revelation  of  the 
nature  of  the  bond  between  Bertha  and  the  preacher. 
That  their  marriage  was  waiting  only  for  the  com- 
pletion of  her  education  and  her  further  maturity  he 
had  presumed  with  satisfaction,  for  he  was  relying  on 
the  preacher,  one  skilful  in  the  use  of  influence,  as  he 
supposed,  to  turn  the  heart  of  the  child  unto  the  father, 
at  present  insinuatingly  and  with  all  the  advantage 
possessed  by  a  lover,  and  later  to  advocate  his  cause 
openly  if  need  be. 

If  Bertha  were  to  marry  another  it  would  be  necessary 
for  him  to  negotiate  his  important  case  anew  while 
leaving  with  the  preacher  a  dreadful  secret  which  the 
jilted  suitor  would  no  longer  have  strong  personal 
reasons  for  keeping  covered  and  might  through  mere 
pique  reveal.  Were  it  not  for  this  Gassier  might  be 
well  pleased  if  Bertha  chose  Pressley  rather  than  the 
preacher,  for  Gassier  liked  him  better.  He  had  found 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  289 

him  companionable,  and  there  was  a  roundness,  a 
vigor  and  wholesome  spice  to  his  character  lacking  to 
the  preacher's.  On  the  whole,  he  hoped  the  preacher's 
plan  would  not  miscarry;  yet,  if  the  preacher  were 
rejected  for  Pressley,  then  Gassier  was  resolved  to 
give  the  young  man  the  same  facts  and  beg  the  same 
offices. 

But  he  was  soon  grievously  discouraged  by  the 
changed  attitude  of  Pressley,  which  seemed  now  to 
have  become  the  same  as  Bertha's,  a  circumstance  due 
as  Gassier  held,  to  her  influence  and  significant  of  the 
progress  of  the  intimacy  between  them.  Bertha's 
contempt  he  had  thus  far  borne  with  no  bitter  sen- 
timent toward  her  in  return,  but  Pressley's  coldness 
and  slights  he  could  not  abide  without  inward 
resentment. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
His  MASK  OFF  FOR  GOOD. 

As  the  weeks  passed  away  the  recurring  incidents 
that  might  denote  a  serious  mutual  attachment  be- 
tween Pressley  and  his  daughter  put  Gassler's  mind 
into  a  strange  state  of  vacillation.  At  times  he  was 
in  a  rage  and  wished  the  youth  were  in  his  presence  so 
that  he  might  berate  him.  At  other  times  he  found 
himself  loving  Pressley  for  Bertha's  sake  (granted  she 
was  really  in  love  with  him)  and  felt  like  taking  an 
occasion  to  throw  his  arms  around  the  young  fellow 
and  hug  him. 

One  day,  in  incertitude  and  dismay,  he  would  wish 
that  the  preacher  might  hurry  and  make  sure  of  the 
prize.  On  the  next  he  would  feel  as  if  he  would  like 
to  surprise  Pressley  and  Bertha  together,  raise  his 
hands  over  them  and  say  "  God  bless  you  both." 

He  had  occasionally  seen  them  together  and  at  such 
times  Bertha,  he  thought,  looked  prettier  and  sweeter 
than  ever,  which  caused  him  even  to  dream  of  being 
bold  enough  some  time  to  approach  her  and  her  lover, 
when  thus  she  seemed  most  like  an  angel,  and,  telling 
her  a  secret  long  concealed,  beg  at  last,  though  almost 
a  stranger,  as  he  must,  his  child's  affection,  or,  if  she 
could  not  at  once  grant  that,  to  beseech  her  that  at 
least,  for  nature's  sake,  she  cease  to  despise  him. 

290 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  291 

It  was  with  a  vague,  timid  intention  to  do  this  that 
he  went  into  the  graveyard  where  Bertha  and  Pressley 
were  sitting,  on  a  Sunday  afternoon  heretofore  men- 
tioned, and  gave  to  Bertha  a  bunch  of  flowers.  After 
he  left,  as  has  been  told,  Bertha  tossed  the  bouquet 
away,  and  Gassier,  noticing  this  as  he  looked  back, 
returned,  when  they  had  left  the  cemetery,  found  the 
flowers  on  the  grave  of  a  child,  and  left  them  there — 
his  own  child's  grave  in  symbol,  for  he  felt  that  she, 
too,  was  dead,  that  as  a  little  child  he  had  loved  her 
and  laid  her  in  the  ground. 

At  last  the  preacher,  observing  how  coldly  Bertha 
received  his  suggestion  of  marriage  when  it  was  plainly 
communicated  to  her,  told  Gassier  he  believed  that 
the  attachment  between  her  and  Pressley  must  be 
genuine.  An  extraordinary  effort  must  therefore  be 
made  to  break  it,  when  he  might  renew  his  own  advance 
and,  as  he  felt  sure,  with  every  prospect  of  success. 
To  accomplish  this  object  he  believed  effective  means 
lay  at  hand  in  the  peculiar  relation  existing  between 
Bertha  and  her  foster  parents.  Only  those  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Old  Plantation  or  those  who  had  long 
known  the  family  well  were  aware  of  the  fact  that 
Bertha  was  not  actually  a  daughter.  Even  many 
who  were  fully  informed  respecting  the  affairs  of  the 
family  at  an  earlier  period  regarded  Bertha  as  what 
she  passed  for — a  later  child  of  the  family — for  among 
Mr.  Garrett's  neighbors  there  had  been  such  deference 
to  his  well-known,  earnest  desire  in  recent  years  that 
nothing  was  ever  said,  except  in  small  groups  and  then 


292  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

guardedly,  about  the  truth  of  Bertha's  position  in  the 
household,  and  so  well  had  even  the  children  of  the 
neighborhood  been  instructed  that,  while  most  of  them 
knew  who  Bertha's  mother  was,  not  one  of  them  ever 
pretended  in  Bertha's  hearing  to  be  wiser  than  she 
herself  was  on  this  point,  except  once,  in  her  childhood, 
when  a  playmate  in  pique  taunted  her  with  not  knowing 
her  mother  and  almost  gave  the  secret  away. 

At  the  same  time,  while  the  mixture  of  race  in  Mrs. 
Garrett  was  seldom  mentioned,  there  was  no  lack  of 
freedom  in  speaking  about  it  when  occasion  arose.  But 
this  fact  did  not  go  abroad  as  formerly,  and  it  was  under- 
stood that  no  one  should  refer  to  it  in  Bertha's  presence. 

It  was,  therefore,  the  preacher's  plan  that  Pressley 
should  be  informed  by  Gassier,  as  if  it  were  a  dis- 
agreeable but  friendly  act,  that  Bertha's  mother  was 
a  colored  woman.  The  preacher  calculated  that 
Pressley  would  be  too  gallant  to  catechize  Bertha 
herself  while  at  the  same  time  he  would  make  inquiries, 
with  cautious  diffidence,  in  fear  of  displaying  his  per- 
sonal concern,  with  the  sure  result  of  confirming  his 
information.  Only  by  taking  others  fully  into  his 
confidence,  which  was  not  to  be  expected,  would  he 
find  what  alone  would  furnish  him  an  escape  from  his 
predicament — the  real  truth  about  Bertha's  parentage. 

"Oh,  no,  let's  not  do  that,"  said  Gassier  when  the 
preacher  had  concluded.  "  It  wouldn't  be  fair." 

"It  would  be  legitimate,"  replied  the  preacher  with 
an  air  of  shrewdness.  "  We  are  only  rating  the  family 
at  their  own  terms — conceding  what  they  represent." 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  293 

"They  don't  allow  the  old  lady's  colored,  do  they?" 
objected  Gassier. 

"  No,  but  that  is  a  patent  fact  that  can't  be  ignored." 

"Well,  while  we're  concedin'  all  they  reppizent, 
let's  concede  she's  Creole  or  Indian — anything  but 
black.  Besides,  I  wouldn't  tell  the  devil  himself  the 
lie  that  my  own  daughter's  a  nigger." 

Gassier  said  this  with  such  vehemence  that  the 
preacher  turned  pale. 

"Saying  so,  of  course,  would  not  make  it  so,"  said 
"  Brother  Charlie,"  "  and  you  would  not  be  saying  it  of 
your  own  daughter  exactly.  You  would  be  saying  it 
so  that  she  might  sooner  be  your  own  daughter.  You 
would  be  furthering  the  execution  of  the  contract  we 
entered  into." 

Gassier  did  have  an  agreement  with  the  preacher. 
Perhaps  it  was  a  contract  and  bound  him  to  do  as  he 
was  told,  besides,  he  was  reluctant  to  possibly  offend 
by  disobedience  the  holder  of  his  secret.  So  he  was 
persuaded  to  promise  that  he  would  inform  Pressley 
as  the  preacher  had  suggested.  But  he  found  it  hard 
to  fulfil  the  promise.  His  spirit  revolted  against  his 
doing  so  unfair  and  mean  a  thing.  He  felt  much  more 
like  calling  Pressley  into  his  shop  and  laying  the  whole 
truth  before  him,  binding  him  not  at  present  to  break 
Bertha's  illusion,  and  trusting  that  the  young  man's 
gratitude  would  impel  him  to  promote  as  best  he  might 
the  object  that  Gassier  himself  had  most  at  heart. 

Yet  when  the  Fourth  of  July  was  come  Gassier  had 
done  neither  the  one  thing  nor  the  other,  and  "  Brother 


294  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

Charlie,"  exasperated  by  the  conduct  of  Bertha  and 
Pressley  on  that  day,  was  impatient  with  Gassier  for 
his  procrastination  and  insisted  that  without  further 
delay  he  should  "start  the  trouble,"  which  Gassier, 
still  afraid  to  rebel  against  the  preacher,  at  last,  as  we 
have  seen,  awkwardly  and  bluntly  did,  and  yet  with 
such  diffidence  and  timidity  as  to  give  Pressley  the 
impression  that  it  was  not  wholly  through  malice. 

The  next  day  Gassier  packed  his  tools,  his  pegs, 
his  lasts  and  his  leathers  and  went  to  his  Good  Hope 
shop,  bitterly  ashamed  of  what  he  had  done,  being 
sure  that  he  now  deserved  Pressley's  contempt  and 
with  a  remorseful  sense  of  having  done  a  wanton 
injury  to  that  worthy  young  man  as  well  as  to  his  own 
daughter.  He,  however,  experienced  some  feeling  of 
relief  a  few  days  later  when  he  learned  that  Pressley 
had  spent  a  day  at  the  Old  Plantation. 

"Why  didn't  we  think  of  that?"  thought  Gassier. 
"He  was  sure  to  visit  her  home  pretty  quick  and  find 
it  out  for  himself,  anyway.  He  has  found  it  out  now 
an'  much  more  'an  likely  he'll  think  now  that  I  was 
only  speakin'  to  him  out  of  friendship  to  put  him  on 
to  something  he'd  ought  to  know." 

Gassier  wondered  if  Pressley  had  gone  on  invitation 
or  had  "just  seemed  to  happen  down,"  urged,  by  what 
Gassier  had  told  him,  to  a  speedy  investigation. 

"  It  was  bound  to  happen,  sooner  or  later,  anyway," 
thought  he,  and  now  felt  that,  whatever  might  be  the 
issue,  it  would  be  attributable  not  to  his  words  but  to 
the  visit. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  295 

Yet  he  was  scarcely  made  happier  on  this  account, 
for,  a  little  while  later,  when  he  knew  that  Bertha  was 
mourning  in  her  heart,  his  own  grieved  also.  It  was 
the  father  in  him  lamenting  that  anything  had  sad- 
dened his  child.  He  did  not,  indeed,  rate  himself  as 
the  cause  of  her  misfortune,  but  he  repented  that  he 
had  desired  and  contrived  to  invite  it. 

He  could  not  follow  with  satisfaction  the  progress 
of  her  sorrow.  He  hardly  ever  saw  her  now.  He 
would  go  to  the  preaching  service  in  the  country  church, 
hoping  in  vain  she  might  be  there.  She  quit  making 
her  trips  to  the  postoffice,  and  if  he  sometimes  spoke 
about  her  with  seeming  indifference  to  others  it  was 
only  to  draw  from  them,  possibly,  some  little  bit  of 
news  or  gossip  concerning  her.  He  hoped  that  Abner 
Garrett,  who,  he  surmised,  must  be  fully  cognizant  of 
the  cause  of  her  trouble,  would  remove  it  by  permitting 
her  and  her  lover  to  know  the  truth,  and  as  time  passed 
on  and  the  girl's  spirits  showed  no  sign,  so  far  as  he 
could  learn,  of  return  to  their  wonted  liveliness,  he 
thought  again  of  going  to  Mr.  Garrett  with  a  full 
revelation  of  the  past,  asking  forgiveness  for  himself 
and  mercy  now  for  his  daughter.  He  suggested  this 
to  "Brother  Charlie,"  who  shook  his  head. 

"You  would  be  far  from  doing  her  a  service,"  said 
he.  "She  would  rather  lose  Pressley  as  her  lover 
than  Garrett  as  her  father." 

At  which  Gassier  was  no  less  than  jealous,  his  passion, 
for  the  time,  being  unmitigated  by  any  appreciation 
of  Garrett's  loving  kindness  and  inestimable  beneficence 


296  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

to  the  wife  he  had  cast  away  and  the  child  of  whom  he 
had  not  known. 

The  situation  was  all  gone  over  again  by  him  and 
the  preacher,  with  the  same  result  as  before,  and 
Gassier  remained  under  the  same  dominion  of  argument 
and  fear.  The  preacher  could  not  reconcile  Bertha's 
cheerful  and  animated  disposition,  as  he  observed  it 
when  in  her  company,  with  a  love-sorrow  that  lay 
leaden  on  her  soul,  and  did  not,  therefore,  believe  that 
her  attachment  had  been  so  strong  or  her  disappoint- 
ment so  deep  as  Gassier  represented. 

But  just  at  this  time  occurred  the  death  of  Walter 
Garrett,  an  event  which  Gassier,  while  he  was  not 
wanting  in  common  human  sympathy,  deplored  chiefly 
because  the  grave  decorum  it  imposed  on  family  and 
friends  would  require,  as  he  supposed,  a  suspension 
for  many  months  of  the  amatory  enterprise  of  the 
preacher,  for  he  was  not  firmly  assured  by  "Brother 
Charlie's"  declaration  that  on  the  contrary  the  period 
of  mourning  might  establish  the  best  condition  for  the 
growth  of  Bertha's  affection,  since,  as  he  put  it,  hearts 
sometimes  see  best  into  other  hearts  through  tears. 

After  the  shocking  revelations  so  dramatically  unfolded 
at  the  hour  of  Walter's  burial,  Gassier  quickly  left  the 
little  cemetery.  He  passed  close  by  those  who  thought 
they  had  known  him  well,  to  whom  he  now  seemed  an 
utter  stranger  of  terrible  manner  and  words,  and  not 
a  man  spoke  to  him. 

His  face  was  burning.  His  eyes  looked  wild.  People 
stood  to  one  side  for  him  to  pass,  and  looked  after  him, 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  297 

all  in  amazement,  and  many  of  them  in  fear,  as  he  has- 
tened away. 

He  went  to  his  shop,  pitched  a  few  garments  into  a 
carpet  bag,  and  set  out  for  College  Hill,  walking  still, 
as  some  said  who  saw  him,  like  one  mad. 

After  an  hour  or  two  a  carriage  in  which  was  Prof. 
Bland  overtook  him.  There  was  room  for  one  more 
in  the  vehicle,  and  the  professor  with  very  grave  and 
timorous  kindness  invited  him  to  ride. 

"No,  no,  I  will  walk,"  said  the  wretched  man  with 
great  firmness.  Noting  well  the  manner  of  his  reply 
and  his  air  of  distraction,  the  professor  did  not  repeat 
the  invitation. 

Gassier  was,  indeed,  wellnigh  mad.  No  one  was 
more  astonished  than  himself  at  the  events  of  the 
afternoon.  That  a  mighty  flood  of  anger  should  have 
submerged  all  sense  and  judgment! 

That  at  last,  after  years  of  reserve  and  control,  he 
should  have  announced  Bertha's  parentage  to  her 
tauntingly  and  with  upbraiding! 

That  his  old  crime  should  be  proclaimed  where  his 
mere  presence  under  the  circumstances  was  an  outrage 
scarcely  less  flagrant . 

That  he  should  have  shocked  both  Heaven  and  earth 
by  profaning  so  sacred  and  solemn  an  hour  with  an 
oath.  All  this  deranged  his  mind  with  remorse  and 
despair.  As  he  walked  along  heedlessly  in  the  growing 
darkness  he  wept  and  groaned  and  cursed  again  in  turn. 

Pretty  father,  he!  Likely  that  Bertha  would  be 
glad  to  give  up  the  sedate,  the  gentle,  the  benevolent, 


298  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

the  reputable  Mr.  Garrett,  and  own  him,  the  vagabond 
shoemaker,  the  ruffian,  the  swearer  at  graves,  the 
highwayman  as  her  father.  She  would  never  recognize 
him  now.  She  was  wholly  out  of  his  future,  which 
looked  black  indeed  with  shame  and  disgrace  and  with 
the  contempt  of  everybody. 

He  loathed  himself.  He  loathed  his  life.  He  was 
himself  more  dissatisfied  with  it  than  anybody  else 
could  be.  He  knew  that  in  no  act  would  he  be  more 
himself  than  in  repudiating  it  before  all  the  world. 
Would  that  not  rightly  secure  him  some  pity  and 
sympathy?  He  thought  of  himself  as  like  the  man  in 
the  hymn,  on  a  raging  sea  in  a  foundering  bark,  wind- 
tossed,  rudely  blown,  and  in  the  dark. 

On  reaching  College  Hill  long  after  dark,  he  went 
directly  to  the  boarding  house,  traversed  the  hall  and 
knocked  at  the  door  of  Prof.  Bland. 

The  professor  had  been  for  some  time  sitting  by  his 
fire,  still  in  a  state  of  high  excitement  on  account  of 
the  remarkable  events  of  the  day,  though  wearied  by 
unwonted  travel  and  exposure  in  the  chilly  air.  As  he 
opened  the  door  he  was  much  struck  by  Gassler's 
abject  appearance,  and  might  have  been  alarmed,  after 
bidding  him  come  in,  at  finding  himself  alone  with 
him,  had  he  not  observed  that  his  face  was  tear- 
stained,  reassuring  proof  that  softer  passions  had  been 
stirring  in  his  breast  than  those  that  made  the  moments 
at  the  graveside  so  horrible. 

"The  'Star  of  Bethlehem'!"  exclaimed  Gassier, 
looking  with  desperate  earnestness  at  the  professor. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  299 

The  utterance  was  a  pleading  groan  that  just  reached 
the  definiteness  of  articulation.  The  professor  did  not 
at  first  understand  that  it  was  a  request. 

"Sing    'The    Star    of    Bethlehem,'"    said    Gassier. 

Professor  Bland  realized  now  that  he  had  heard  the 
cry  of  a  broken  heart  and  a  contrite  spirit,  and  began 
singing  the  hymn  in  a  low  voice,  so  that  it  would  not 
be  heard  through  all  the  house.  When  he  had  come  to 
the  end  of  the  third  stanza; 

Once  on  the  raging  seas  I  rode. 

The  storm  was  loud,  the  night  was  dark. 
The  ocean  yawned,  and  rudely  blowed 

The  wind  that  tossed  my  foundering  bark, 

Gassier  was  sobbing  and  the  old  singer  was  so  deeply 
moved  that  his  voice  trembled  as  he  proceeded,  but 
became  firm,  clear  and  triumphant  as  he  reached  the 

lines: 

But  suddenly  a  star  arose — 
It  was  the  Star  of  Bethelem, 

and  so  he  continued  to  the  end. 

"  Sing  it  again,"  said  Gassier. 

And  once  more  the  professor  sang  it  with  deep 
feeling  arising  from  a  new  appreciation  of  its  power  as 
illustrated  in  the  particular  case  of  the  distressed 
penitent  before  him. 

Those  in  the  rooms  adjoining  or  close  by  had  heard 
some  one  come  in  and  be  admitted  to  the  professor's 
apartment,  and  they  were  surprised  when  soon  the 
professor  began  to  sing.  They  supposed  at  first  some 
question  had  arisen  as  to  the  hymn  between  him  and 


300  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

his  caller  or  that  he  was  singing  it  as  a  pious  relief  to 
his  mind  from  oppressive  reflections  on  the  awful 
incidents  of  the  day. 

But  even  through  intervening  walls  the  low  tones 
of  his  voice  presently  carried  with  them  the  evidence 
of  singular  earnestness  and  intensity  of  emotion,  and 
listeners  then  felt  that  the  singing  was  really  a  serious 
work  of  grace  and  that  the  visitor,  whoever  he  might 
be,  had  sought  the  professor's  room  as  a  sanctuary. 

When  the  professor  had  concluded,  Gassier,  who  had 
by  this  time  become  more  composed,  said : 

"Professor,  you  are  too  good  for  me  to  ride  with. 
That's  the  reason  I  didn't  get  in.  I  was  too  ashamed 
of  myself.  That  was  awful  this  afternoon.  But  what 
I  said  was  right.  She  is  my  daughter.  Only  I  hadn't 
ought  to  say  it  that  way.  And  what  she  said  was 
right,  too.  I  did  it.  Seems  as  though  they  remem- 
bered my  scarred  hand.  Yes,  I  did  it.  But  I  ain't 
any  better  suited  with  my  life  'an  anybody  else  is. 
I  hate  it  worse  'an  anybody.  If  I  do,  then  I'm  not 
as  bad  as  if  I  liked  it.  And  I  want  people  to  know  I 
hate  it.  I  want  to  square  myself  with  the  world. 

"  I'll  own  up  to  it  all.  I  wore  a  mask  on  the  night  of 
the  robbery  and  'pears  to  me  as  if  I'd  been  wearin'  it 
ever  since,  but  it's  comin'  off  now  and  comin'  off  for 
good.  I'd  ha'  done  it  before  this  if  I  hadn't  been 
advised  not  to,  though  I  'low  I  didn't  want  to.  But 
I  liked  that  girl  so  as  I  wanted  to  get  things  squared 
up.  I've  tried  to  live  without  squarin'  'em  up,  but 
I  can't. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  301 

"I  wouldn't  ha'  cared  at  things  comin'  out  today  if 
I  hadn't  ha'  told  my  daughter  she  was  stuck  up,  and 
got  mad  and  swore  right  there  at  the  buryin'.  I 
reckon  she'll  never  like  me  now.  People  won't  like 
my  life,  now  a^  they've  found  out  what  I  did,  but  I 
don't  like  it,  either,  and  it's  goin'  to  be  something 
different  from  this  time  on. 

"  Pressley's  goin'  to  know  her  mother  ain't  a  darkey, 
and  then  he'll  love  her  ag'in,  maybe,  and  they'll  be 
happy.  He'd  be  lots  better  for  her  than  the  preacher. 
As  I  was  walkin'  along  I  didn't  know  what  to  do  till 
you  ketched  up  with  me,  and  then  the  sight  of  you 
made  me  think  o'  'The  Star  of  Bethlehem/  and  I  had 
to  come  right  here  to  hear  ye  sing  it." 

And  there  in  that  plain  abode  of  peace,  refine- 
ment and  the  virtues,  the  shoemaker  made  the 
professor  his  confessor,  as  he  had  made  the  preacher 
some  time  before,  but  adding  to  his  grievous  state- 
ment a  chapter  covering  his  efforts  to  form  an  ac- 
quaintance with  his  daughter  and  his  conspiracy  with 
Brother  Warner  to  spoil  the  match  between  her  and 
Pressley. 

Prof.  Bland  listened  with  great  interest  and  sympathy 
to  the  plain  tale,  congratulated  Gassier  on  his  disgust 
with  what  was  evil  in  his  past,  expressed  confidence 
in  his  ability  to  make  future  conduct  testify  to  better 
character,  and  expressed  the  hope  that  he  would  yet 
gain  such  recognition  from  his  daughter  as  would  not 
leave  his  paternal  yearnings  wholly  ungratified. 

Gassier  spent  the  night  in  the  little  room  in  the  rear 


302  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

of  his  shop,  and  the  next  morning  before  the  village 
was  awake  he  was  on  his  way  afoot  to  the  Old  Plantation 
to  beg  the  forgiveness  of  Mr.  Garrett  and,  if  he  could 
see  her,  of  his  child. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
FICTION  AND  FACT. 

NEITHER  Bertha  nor  Abner  Garrett  slept  a  moment 
on  the  night  of  the  day  when  Walter's  remains  were  laid 
finally  away  in  the  little  home  cemetery. 

The  girl  was  part  of  the  time  lying,  part  of  the  time 
sitting,  in  her  bed;  now  in  tears,  now  in  a  distraction 
too  fearful  for  tears,  thinking  of  the  great  change 
the  day  had  wrought. 

What  a  transformation  of  persons,  herself  included! 
Two  who  had  stood  nearest  moved — she  could  no* 
yet  tell  how  far,  but  a  distance,  away.  One  who  had 
stood  a  little  apart,  brought  close,  and  one,  who  had 
stood  afar  off  and  whose  face  she  hated,  also  brought 
near,  even  to  her  side !  And  all  wearing  new  faces ! 

And  her  lover — no  gulf  now  between  her  and  him, 
but  a  plain  space,  over  which,  however,  since  there  had 
been  a  gulf,  could  they  now  approach  each  other? 

And  this  dear  old  place  which  she  had  always  loved 
as  home  was  become  just  so  strange  as  to  make  her 
homesick.  Homesick,  then,  for  a  home — where? 

Nowhere  in  all  the  world. 

Lying  in  the  room  which  since  she  was  a  little  girl 
had  been  hers,  yet  homeless  and  parentless.  A  situation 
that  did  not  seem  real,  yet  too  real  to  be  a  dream. 

Garrett,  lamenting  anew  the  loss  of  his  son,  was 
303 


304  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

grieving  also  almost  as  for  another  Julia  dead,  and 
regretting  the  cruelty  with  which  Bertha's  illusion 
had  been  dispelled.  Nor  did  he  omit  to  reproach 
himself  with  being  the  author  of  the  catastrophe  in 
having  selfishly  established  the  condition  that  made 
it  possible.  He  sat  by  the  fireplace  or  reclined  on  the 
lounge,  without  undressing,  all  night.  As  had  before 
been  the  experience  of  his  mind,  this  new  trouble  was 
accompanied  by  the  whole  familiar  troop  of  old  ones, 
and  by  still  another,  which,  neither  new  nor  old,  was 
becoming  more  serious  every  day. 

He  had  never  been  able  to  make  the  income  from 
his  capital  sufficient  to  offset  the  family  expenditures. 
His  sons  had  spent  money  like  princes.  The  amounts 
they  called  for  increased  instead  of  diminishing  as  they 
grew  up  to  be  men. 

Walter,  after  spending  heavily  all  through  his 
college  course  and  in  the  following  years  at  various 
unremunerative  employments,  had  recently  required 
thousands  of  dollars  to  fit  up  a  home  and  office  in  New 
Orleans. 

Dan  had  taken  thousands  more  in  the  building  of 
his  boat,  which  was  not  being  operated  profitably, 
and  thousands  more  would  soon  be  necessary  to 
prevent  the  foreclosure  of  a  mortgage  on  the  steamer. 

Abner  Garrett,  himself,  though  inclined  to  no  extrav- 
agance on  his  personal  account,  had  always  been  proud 
to  furnish  luxuries  of  all  sorts  to  his  family,  while  as 
an  agriculturist  he  seldom  managed  so  that  the  returns 
from  his  fields  were  more  than  large  enough  to  pay 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  305 

the  cost  of  cultivating  and  maintaining  and  embellishing 
the  Old  Plantation.  The  result  now  was  that  such 
part  of  his  former  fortune  as  was  not  realty  had  become 
exhausted,  and  he  was  reduced  to  a  reliance  upon  his 
acres  alone,  a  prospect  which  caused  him  much 
misgiving. 

When  Gassier  arrived  early  in  the  morning  at  the 
Old  Plantation  mansion  Mr.  Garrett  met  him  at  the 
door. 

"Mr.  Garrett,  I  want  to  speak  to  you  alone,"  said 
Gassier. 

Gassier  presented  a  sorry  appearance,  wearied  with 
foot  travel  and  loss  of  sleep,  and  showing  in  his  face 
an  excitement  that  disregarded  any  of  the  ordinary 
demands  for  physical  rest. 

Mr.  Garrett  surveyed  him  with  grave  surprise.  Then, 
still  standing  at  the  door,  he  said : 

"Proceed.     I  am  the  only  one  up." 

"I  wish  I  had  told  you  long  ago,"  began  Gassier. 
"I've  been  ashamed  enough  of  it.  I  was  one  of  ;em. 
I  was  the  feller  that  stood  over  you.  An'  then's  when 
I  got  the  first  sight  o'  the  little  girl.  Might  seem  as  if 
I  wouldn't  care,  but  I  did.  An'  when  I  seed  the  kind 
of  folks  we'd  come  to  I  wanted  to  back  out  right  then, 
but  I  didn't  durst  to.  I  knowed  the  other  fellers 
wouldn't  stand  it.  An'  so  we  went  ahead,  but  I  can 
tell  you  it  wa'n't  a  nice  job  for  me.  I'd  heared  that 
she  an'  a  baby  she  had  was  took  up  north  by  some 
rich  man,  an',  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  care  then,  only 
was  glad  they'd  got  into  good  hands,  an'  I  never 


306  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

calkilated  to  see  'em  again;  but  when  I  see  the  little 
girl  there  on  your  porch  I  knowed  it  was  her,  an' 
'.Dears  like  all  the  love  I'd  ought  to  been  doin'  since  she 
was  born  began  on  me  right  then,  an'  it  kept  increasing 
though  I  couldn't  see  her.  An'  when  she  screamed 
there  through  bein'  afeared  o'  me  an'  thinkin'  some- 
body was  goin'  to  be  hurt  I  tell  you  it  took  me  up  a 
mighty  lot." 

Gassier  moistened  his  lips  with  his  tongue,  as  if  to 
accelerate  his  confession,  then  proceeded  hastily: 

"Well,  I  wanted  to  send  back  all  the  money.  I 
told  the  other  fellers  you  wasn't  the  kind  of  people 
we'd  ought  to  do  a  thing  o'  that  kind  on.  We  was  a 
lot  of  old  rebels  as  thought  we  hadn't  got  quite  as  much 
out  o'  the  war  as  we'd  ought  to.  But  they  wouldn't 
hear  to  sendin'  it  back,  so  I  couldn't  get  it  from  'em. 

"I  knowed  I  was  held  to  you  fer  the  hull  amount 
we  stole  an'  I'd  thought  o'  tryin'  to  get  it  back  to  you, 
but  I  was  afeared  to  do  it  fear  I'd  be  found  out,  an' 
a  feller  I  talked  to  said  I'd  better  not,  an'  besides  I 
held  it  a  little  ag'in'  you  that  you  was  holdin'  o'  my 
wife  and  child  so  as  there  was  no  chance  fer  me  to  get 
'em  back  without  makin'  a  bad  mess  o'  the  whole 
thing,  an'  mebbe  I  couldn't  get  'em  anyway. 

"That's  the  reason  I  been  hangin'  around  here  last 
two  years — jest  to  see  my  daughter.  Thought  I 
might  get  on  speakin'  terms  with  her  without  her 
knowin'  who  I  was  an'  see  her  at  churches  an'  so  on, 
but  she  jest  took  a  dislikin'  to  me  from  the  start 
'parently.  Can't  blame  her  much,  but  it  went  hard 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  307 

with  me  when  I  was  lovin'  her  all  the  time.  I  see 
Maggie  an'  sounded  her,  but  she  wouldn't  hear  to 
comin'  back  to  me,  an'  I  knowed  you'd  adopted 
Bertha,  an'  the  way  seemed  pretty  well  hedged  up 
to  me. 

"I  jest  got  mad  in  the  graveyard,  that's  all.  My 
temper  got  away  with  me.  I  couldn't  stand  things 
any  longer.  It  was  an  awful  thing  to  do.  I'm  sorrier 
fer  it  than  anybody,  an'  I  came  here  to  ask  yer  fergive- 
ness  fer  it  an'  fer  the  robbery  an'  the  hull  business. 
I'm  tired  livin'  the  way  I've  lived.  There's  the  past. 
No  help  fer  it,  but  the  future's  goin'  to  be  different. 

"I  don't  want  Bertha  to  leave  you.  I  don't  allow 
she  can  ever  think  much  of  me,  but  I  wish  I  could  be 
on  speakin'  terms  with  her.  Mebbe  she'll  come  that 
fur  after  while.  An'  there's  nothin'  now  standin'  in 
the  way  of  her  marryin'  Pressley.  I  told  him  her 
mother  was  a  wench  jest  to  throw  him  off  the  track 
'cause  another  feller  wanted  her.  I  want  yer  fergive- 
ness  fer  that,  too.  I  want  to  own  up  to  everything, 
an'  as  fer  the  money,  why,  I've  had  no  one  but  myself 
to  take  care  of,  an'  here's  the  nine  hundred  dollars. 
Now,  won't  you  fergive  the  hull  thing?" 

Gassier  offered  Garrett  a  roll  of  bills. 

Without  taking  the  money,  the  planter  invited 
Gassier,  who  all  this  time  had  been  standing  outside 
the  open  door,  to  come  in  and  sit  down. 

"I  do  forgive  you,"  said  Garrett  when  they  were 
seated,  "and  I  forgive  you  the  money  too.  I  don't 
want  it.  You  have  paid  all  debts  you  owe  me  by 


308  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

saying  what  you  have  just  said.  I  hope  you  have 
entered  on  a  new  life.  I  trust  nothing  will  divert  you 
from  it.  I  also  hope  you  will  in  time  get  the  recog- 
nition from  your  daughter  you  desire.  I  shall  tell  her 
what  you  have  told  me,  but  for  the  present,  until 
her  mind  has  had  time  to  change,  if  it  will  change,  I 
think  you  had  better  not  seek  to  bring  yourself  to  her 
notice.  She  has  two  fathers.  She  just  now  feels  as 
if  she  had  none.  I  had  two  daughters.  I  lost  one. 
I  now  feel  as  if  I  had  lost  the  other.  And  you  loved 
her?" 

Mr.  Garrett  asked  the  question  as  if  musing.  The 
other  bowed  his  head;  yet  there  was  pride  even  in  his 
shame. 

"I  was  late,  too  late,  beginnin'  to  feel  like  a  father 
toward  her,"  he  moaned,  "but  when  I  see  her  an'  got 
to  thinkin'  she  was  my  own  daughter,  my  own  child, 
my  heart  commenced  warmin'  up  an'  got  gettin' 
warmer  all  the  time.  I  thought  better  o'  Maggie, 
too,  when  I  see  she  was  the  mother  of  such  a  child." 

A  sudden  thought  set  the  kind  lines  of  Abner  Gar- 
rett's  face  into  sternness. 

"You  said  you  tried  to  throw  Pressley  off  the  track 
because  some  other  person  wanted  Bertha,"  he  in- 
quired. "Did  he  know  what  you  told  Pressley?" 

"  Yes,  he  put  me  on  to  tellin'  of  him." 

"May  I  ask  who  that  was?" 

"It  was  Brother  Warner.  He  allowed  it  would  be 
better  fer  me  if  he  married  her." 

"  He  knew,  then,  you  were  her  real  father? " 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  309 

"  Yes,  I  told  him  all  about  myself  when  I  got  religion 
two  years  ago  over  in  Kentucky.  But  I  didn't  keep 
it.  I've  got  religion  before  and  didn't  keep  it.  I 
couldn't  keep  it  an'  my  secrets  both.  Now  I've 
got  rid  of  my  secrets,  an'  I'm  goin'  to  keep  my  religion." 

"I  trust  you  will,"  said  Garrett,  rising  from  the 
chair,  which  Gassier  correctly  interpreted  as  an  inti- 
mation that  the  interview  was  ended. 

"Think  as  kind  o'  me  as  you  can,"  said  he  in  leaving. 

"  I  will,"  was  the  reply. 

Gassier  immediately  set  out  on  his  return  to  College 
Hill.  He  met  a  few  of  his  acquaintances  as  he  left 
the  neighborhood.  They  stopped  as  if  they  would 
speak  with  him,  but  he  passed  on,  saying  to  each  of 
them  in  turn : 

"I've  been  over  to  the  Old  Plantation,  told  him 
everything,  an'  asked  his  fergiveness  fur  everything." 

That  day  "Brother  Charlie"  called  at  the  Old 
Plantation.  Mrs.  Garrett  treated  him  with  customary 
consideration,  but  he  observed  a  deportment  in  Mr. 
Garrett  which  he  would  have  been  glad  to  be  assured 
was  only  abstraction  due  to  grief.  He  felt,  however, 
that  while  his  old  friend  eyed  him  coldly  so  did  he 
also  reproachfully. 

"Brother  Charlie"  asked,  with  the  latitude  com- 
monly allowed  spiritual  physicians  in  time  of  stress, 
if  he  had  not  better  "have  a  word  with  Bertha." 

"I  don't  believe  she  would  desire  to  see  anyone 
today,"  said  Garrett  in  a  manner  that  seemed  almost 
stern. 


310  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"  Brother  Charlie  "  never  received  another  invitation 
to  the  Garrett  home.  He  never  afterward  saw  any 
member  of  the  Garrett  family  in  his  congregation. 
He  ventured  to  call  a  few  times  on  the  standing  invi- 
tation he  held  as  pastor,  but  the  former  hospitality 
was  not  extended.  Abner  Garrett,  however,  governed 
the  conduct  of  his  wife  and  Bertha  toward  the  preacher 
merely  by  the  expression  of  his  wishes  without  giving 
further  reason  therefor  than  to  say  he  had  heard  things 
which  left  no  doubt  in  his  mind  that  Mr.  Warner  was 
not  a  sincere  man  nor  a  true  friend  of  the  family.  He 
was  not  pressed  to  be  more  explicit.  It  was  not  the 
first  time  that  he  had  thus  given  direction  to  family 
policy  while  making  it  understood  that  his  motive 
must  not  be  the  subject  of  exacting  inquiry. 

As  soon  as  "Brother  Charlie"  learned  that  Gassier 
had  had  an  interview  with  Mr.  Garrett  he  speculated 
with  great  misgiving  as  to  whether  or  not  any  of  hia 
own  confidences  with  the  shoemaker  had  been  held 
back.  He  hoped  in  vain  to  see  Gassier  at  his  local 
shop,  and  a  few  months  later,  convinced  that  the 
change  in  the  disposition  of  the  Garretts  was  perma- 
nent, he  made  a  trip  to  College  Hill  to  ask  Gassier  if 
he  had  divulged  his  secret  counsel  to  Mr.  Garrett. 
Gassier  told  him  the  facts  of  the  matter,  and  soon 
afterward  "Brother  Charlie"  retired  from  the  pas- 
torate of  the  church. 

As  a  branch  torn  from  its  tree  by  tempest  might 
feel,  if  it  had  sensation,  so  Bertha  felt  after  the  recent 
rude  wind  of  circumstance  had  blown  upon  her.  It 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  311 

seemed  to  her  that  all  vital  connection  between  herself 
and  the  family  of  which  she  never  mistrusted  she  was 
a  part  was  broken  asunder,  and  her  spirit  was  prostrate 
and  helpless. 

Instead  of  the  cherished  child  of  the  affection  of  a 
dear  father  and  mother,  she  had  been  living,  then, 
but  in  a  friend's  house.  The  love  given  and  returned 
was  only  make-believe.  The  threads  of  gold  that 
bound  their  hearts  to  hers  and  hers  to  theirs  were  but 
tinselled  sham.  The  warmth  of  love  was  not  from 
life  but  from  an  artifice.  In  the  exchange  of  what  is 
most  precious  in  being  she  had  been  the  victim  of 
fraud.  The  truth  which,  beginning  before  she  could 
remember,  in  her  baby  heart,  she  had  held  the  dearest 
in  the  world,  was  now  converted  at  a  word  into  a 
fiction. 

The  changing  consciousness  of  the  girl  continued 
to  bewilder  her.  Every  object  she  beheld,  however 
familiar  all  the  surroundings  were,  was  imbued  with 
a  quality  of  remoteness.  "Ours,"  even  "mine,"  had 
to  give  place  to  "theirs,"  as  in  the  house  of  some 
stranger,  and  it  may  be  hard  for  one  to  imagine  how 
deeply  affected  she  was  when,  looking,  say  at  the 
parlor  table  cover,  she  realized  that  she  had  lost  a 
joint-proprietary  interest  in  it  and  held  only  that  of  a 
pensioner. 

Bertha's  mind  could  make  no  progress  toward  any- 
thing like  a  practical  adjustment  of  itself  to  the 
knowledge  that  Gassier  and  Old  Maggie  were  her 
parents.  For  Old  Maggie,  indeed,  she  had  always 


312  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

had  a  warm  affection  such  as  her  fervent  nature  would 
have  conceived  for  any  other  woman  with  whom  she 
had  been  on  like  terms  of  intimacy  and  from  whom 
since  infancy  she  had  received  like  loving  kindnesses, 
but  by  no  process  could  this  long  formed  affection, 
even  though  maternal  in  its  counterpart,  be  now 
transmuted  into  the  superior  gold  of  filial  love. 

Sometimes,  impelled  in  part  by  conscience,  in  part 
by  personal  pride,  Bertha  found  herself  seeking  to 
invest  Gassier  with  a  more  worthy  character  than  she 
had  hitherto  allowed  him.  In  this  she  was  assisted  with 
suggestions  adroitly  made  from  time  to  time  by  Mr. 
Garrett.  In  light  of  the  fact  that  Gassler's  interest 
in  her  had  been  a  fatherly  one  she  could  condone  to 
some  extent  the  purely  personal  annoyances  she  had 
suffered  from  him,  but  the  deeper  impression  he  had 
made  on  her  mind  was  little  changed.  The  harsh 
details  of  her  mental  images  of  him  as  desperado  and 
desecrator  were  not  softened. 

Gassier  and  Old  Maggie — too  late  now  to  make 
these  two  persons  over  into  parents!  Bertha  could, 
indeed,  conceive  she  was  descended  from  them,  but 
her  feeling  in  this  respect,  as  nearly  as  it  can  be  de- 
scribed, was  that  they  were  ancestors,  separated  from 
herself  by  some  va.gue  intermediate  generations. 

At  the  same  time  Bertha  found  it  was  no  use  trying 
still  to  hold  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Garrett  in  her  heart  as  father 
and  mother.  They  had  inevitably  receded  from  her, 
and,  with  the  dissolution  of  the  bonds  of  natural 
affection,  she  indulged  the  melancholy  license  of 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  313 

applying  to  these  two  persons  a  more  critical  con- 
sideration than  her  sentiments  as  a  daughter  would 
ever  have  allowed  her  to  exercise. 

Once  more  she  tried  to  look  through  Pressley's  eyes, 
and  this  time  with  more  freedom,  if  she  chose,  to  con- 
cede the  verity  of  his  view.  Perhaps  there  had  been 
another  well-kept  secret  in  the  family.  She  recalled 
that  those  questions  she  had  asked  as  a  child,  and 
even  hi  later  years,  about  the  childhood  of  her  supposed 
mother  were  never  directly  answered  and  that  she  was 
soon  diverted  from  them.  But  now  she  asked  Abner 
Garrett  point  blank : 

"Was  Pressley  right  in  thinking  there  was  colored 
blood  in  my  mother — in  Mrs.  Garrett?" 

She  was  almost  sorry,  for  he  quailed  as  if  one  had 
struck  him  a  blow. 

"Can  you  not  see  for  yourself,  child?"  he  answered. 

"See  that  there  is  or  is  not?" 

"Can  you  not  satisfy  yourself?" 

"  It  seems  to  me  there  might  be." 

"She  says  not." 

"But  do  you  not  know  positively?  What  do  you 
think?" 

"I  do  not  allow  myself  to  know  or  to  think  beyond 
what  she  says." 

"Then  Pressley  was  right." 

As  the  whole  matter  revolved  itself  in  Bertha's 
mind,  she  rated  her  prime  affections,  tender  and  ardent 
as  they  had  been,  fictitious  save  one.  Her  lover  had 
been  her  lover  and  her  love  for  him  had  alone  been 


314  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

genuine.     Was  it  still  not  possible  to  save  this?    If 
he  only  knew,  would  not  this  lead  to  the  union  of  their 
hearts  again? 
She  was  not  sure,  but  she  wished  he  knew. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
RESTORATION — AND  EPILOGUE. 

PRESSLEY  was  a  student  this  year  at  Franklin 
College.  One  day  in  March  he  received  a  letter  ad- 
dressed in  a  strange  hand,  but  bearing  the  familiar 
postmark  of  College  Hill.  It  was  from  Gassier,  short 
and  laboriously  composed.  With  orthographical  re- 
vision it  may  be  reproduced  as  follows : 

I'm  no  hand  at  writin',  so  excuse  how  short  this  is  goin'  to 
be.  I  allowed  you  might  not  find  out  and  I  wanted  you  to 
know  is  the  reason  I  have  for  writin'.  It  turns  out  Bertha  is 
not  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Garrett  and  his  wife.  She's  adopted. 
Her  parents  is  white  folks.  I  knowed  this  all  the  time,  which 
don't  excuse  me  for  tellin'  you  she  had  darkey  blood,  which 
God  forgive.  I  ask  your  pardon  for  it,  too.  I  tell  you  so  you 
can  act  accordingly  if  you  want  to,  and  I  wish  you  would. 

Pressley's  eyes  were  moist  before  he  raised  them 
from  the  page,  in  joy  that  the  way  might  yet  be  open 
for  him  to  follow  the  leadings  of  his  heart;  in  compas- 
sion for  her  to  whom  he  had  been  needlessly  cruel; 
in  pity  of  himself  that  he  also  had  suffered. 

"I  knew  it  could  not  be  so,"  said  he  bitterly  to 
himself.  "I  knew  it  could  not  be  so.  Then  why  did 
I  act  as  if  it  were?  I  knew  she  was  bred  an  angel, 
and  when  she  came  into  my  heart  why  did  I  thrust 
her  out?  Why  did  I  not  give  myself  to  her  as  she 

315 


316  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

gave  herself  to  me?  Why  did  I  pretend  to  find  a 
blemish  on  her  and  fling  her  away?" 

Thus  his  thoughts  ran  on  in  tenderness  toward  her 
and  in  contempt  of  himself. 

He  would  hurry  to  her,  if  she  would  let  him,  and 
confess  his  own  abasement,  his  own  meanness.  It 
would  be  in  shame  and  manifold  contrition,  and  if 
she  only  would,  if  she  only  could,  forgive  him,  if  the 
same  old,  free,  unmixed  light  of  love  was  in  her  eyes, 
he  would  be  happy  again. 

He  lost  no  time  in  mailing  a  note  to  Bertha.  "  May 
I  come  to  you?  "  it  asked  only.  In  a  few  days  a  thrice 
blessed  "yes"  was  received,  and  Bertha  had  added: 

"Mrs.  Garrett  has  never  been  informed  of  your 
opinion  respecting  her." 

How  truly,  thought  Jim,  she  had  anticipated  his 
feelings  and  how  considerately  she  had  saved  him 
embarrassment  by  telling  him  that  Mrs.  Garrett  had 
never  been  told  the  reason  for  his  conduct. 

He  took  the  train  for  Madison.  His  information 
implied  a  mystery  over  which  his  mind  could  not  cease 
to  exercise  itself.  What  could  have  happened?  If 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Garrett  were  not  her  parents,  who  could 
her  parents  be?  The  girl  at  once  began  to  be  dreamily 
strange  to  him,  and  the  reflection  startled  him  that 
there  he  was  speeding  on  to  a  reunion  with  a  sweet- 
heart whose  real  name  he  did  not  know. 

He  felt  he  would  be  better  prepared  to  present  him- 
self at  Bertha's  home  if  he  could  only  learn  something 
further  regarding  the  enigma,  and  he  suddenly  decided 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  317 

to  stop  at  College  Hill  and  see  Prof.  Bland,  so,  instead 
of  proceeding  directly  to  Madison,  he  got  off  at  Dupont. 
He  had  sometimes  done  this  before,  when  going  home, 
just  to  pay  his  friends  at  the  Hill,  and  especially  Prof. 
Bland,  a  visit. 

It  was  quite  dark  when,  afoot,  he  had  reached  the 
stoniest  part  of  the  road  running  from  Dupont  to 
College  Hill.  From  an  eminence  behind  he  had 
already  seen  the  lights  in  the  boarding  house,  and  was 
satisfied  when  he  made  sure  that  one  of  them  was 
shining  from  Prof.  Eland's  window. 

At  length  he  found  himself  at  the  boarding  house 
door.  It  was  a  portal  which  for  old  acquaintance' 
sake  he  was  privileged  to  open  without  knocking. 
Going  the  length  of  the  hall,  he  tapped  on  Prof.  Bland's 
door  and  was  bidden  to  enter. 

"Once  more  the  wayfaring  youth  is  welcomed  to 
the  hermit's  cell,"  said  the  professor,  leaning  forward 
in  his  chair  to  grasp  Jim's  hand. 

"You  a  hermit?  Why,  no;  you  like  mankind  too 
well." 

"But  hermits  are  ever  kindly  to  youth.  Yes, 
James,  a  good  deal  of  a  hermit,  not  of  choice,  but  of 
necessity,  a  sometimes  hard  necessity,  for  you  know 
it  is  a  labor  for  me  to  get  about.  Even  to  rise  to  greet 
my  friends  is  a  task  so  slow  that  in  the  doing  it  loses 
all  grace  of  compliment." 

"But  is  it  not  the  better  action  in  a  master  simply 
to  sit?  Kings'  words  need  no  gesture.  It  is  only  the 
utterances  of  common  men  that  need  the  emphasis  of 


318  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

motions,  and  the  most  regal  hail  is  the  welcome  merely 
spoken." 

"No  master  and  no  king,  James,  but,  if  you  will, 
your  etiquette  would  not  hold  between  two  royalties." 

"Will  you  not  let  me  give  you  your  proper  rank?" 

"Not  if  it  puts  a  grade  between  us." 

"Well,  we  are  met  and  well  met  for  me,  and  surely 
if  it  lacked  ceremony  we  have  by  after  argument  made 
it  ceremonious  enough,  for  we  have  crowned  two  kings 
protesting  against  their  own  investiture." 

"And  now  that  it  is  done,  let's  have  a  revolution 
and  depose  us  both;  keeping  the  truer  nobility  of  com- 
moner men,  showing  how  we  despise  a  sovereignty 
not  shared  by  all  republicans.  Better  for  the  land  of 
Washington  and  the  commonwealth  of  Indiana — poor 
country  for  a  heraldry  and  for  the  growing  of  that 
crop  of  weeds  that  blossom  into  crowns.  But  we  began 
wrong,  James.  I  have  been  thinking  much  about  you 
lately,  and  was  never  so  glad  to  have  you  come.  I 
knew  those  were  your  footsteps  in  the  hall." 

"And  I  had  a  special  object  in  coming.  Until  I  got 
on  the  train  I  had  not  thought  of  dropping  by  this 
way.  But  what  was  your  special  desire  to  see  me?" 

"  I  believe  you  know  it  already.  I  was  not  sure  that 
you  would  hear  of  the  matter.  Go  down  there,  James. 
If  things  can  be  fixed  up  it  will  be  a  blessed  mending. — 
But  have  you  heard  what's  been  going  on?"  asked 
the  professor,  suddenly  reflecting  that  he  might  have 
presumed  too  much,  "  or  have  you  of  yourself  changed 
your  mind?  " 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  319 

"All  I  know  was  contained  in  a  short  note  that  I 
got  from  Mr.  Gassier.  He  said  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Garrett  were  not  her  parents." 

"  Oh,  then  it  will  be  all  right,  and  while  it  is  through 
a  great  trial  to  Bertha,  you  are  both  to  be  congratu- 
lated. It  is  something  that  ought  to  have  been  told 
her  long  ago,  and  then  it  would  not  have  been  so  hard. 
James,  be  as  diplomatic  as  you  can  when  talking  to 
Mrs.  Garrett.  Beware  the  fury  of '  a  woman  scorned.' " 

"She  has  known  nothing  about  my  motives,"  said 
Jim,  "  if  that  is  what  you  mean.  Bertha  told  me  that." 

"Ah,  then,  so  much  the  better.  You  will  no  doubt 
be  received  gladly  by  them  all." 

"But  what  has  happened?"  asked  Jim.  "I  came 
expressly  to  see  if  you  could  tell  me,  so  that  I  would 
not  need  to  go  to  Bertha's  home  so  much  in  the  dark. 
How  is  it?  Who  are  her  parents?  " 

"Gassier  didn't  tell  you  that?  She  is  an  adopted 
daughter  without  knowing  it  until  now.  You  have 
heard  her  speak  of  Old  Maggie?  " 

"Yes." 

"Old  Maggie  is  her  mother,  and  her  father  is  Mr. 
Gassier,  though  Gassier  is  an  assumed  name.  His  real 
name  is  Crowell." 

"Good  gracious!"  exclaimed  Jim,  starting  in  his 
chair.  "When  did  it  become  known,  and  how?" 

Prof.  Bland  then  told  him  all  about  the  funeral. 

"Strangest  thing  I  ever  heard  in  my  life,"  was  the 
best  way  the  young  man  could  express  his  mightily 
wrought  up  and  mingled  feelings. 


320  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

The  professor  then  narrated  to  him  the  Garrett 
family  history  and  repeated  Gassier' s  story  as  the  shoe- 
maker had  given  it. 

"  Explains  it  all,"  said  Jim. 

The  young  man  excused  himself  for  a  moment  to 
go  to  the  matron  to  speak  for  a  bed.  She  asked  him 
why  he  looked  so  frightened.  He  laughed  at  her  for 
what  he  called  her  notion. 

"It  invigorates  me  to  come  in  contact  with  some- 
body who  has  been  traveling,"  said  Professor  Bland  to 
Jim  when  he  returned.  "  I  feel  as  if  my  windows  were 
up  and  fresh  air  were  coming  in;  as  if  I  were  a  stagnant 
pool  stirred  by  the  inflowing  of  a  running  stream.  When 
one  has  been  making  a  railroad  trip  I  always  fancy  he 
brings  with  him  what  I  may  call  the  scent  of  activity, 
the  odor  of  bustle  and  movement.  It's  good  to  get 
such  things  as  that  into  my  old  room  sometimes.  If 
I  should  get  a  new  book  I  suppose  I  should  feel  that 
it  brought  up  a  little  the  dates  of  all  the  others  on  my 
shelves.  I  mean,  brightened  them  a  trifle." 

"  I  know  it  does  a  young  man  good  to  get  into  this 
room  now  and  then,"  said  Jim.  He  was  much  inter- 
ested in  these  references  of  the  professor  to  himself. 
He  was  surprised  at  them,  for  they  were  opening  up 
recesses  in  the  old  man's  heart  which  he  supposed  had 
long  been  closed  for  all  time.  He  had  never  before 
that  night  heard  Prof.  Bland  say  a  word,  except  in 
the  most  indirect  way,  about  his  loneliness  or  seclusion, 
about  any  of  his  belongings,  his  books  or  anything 
else  being  old. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  321 

Everything  he  had  was  old.  The  backs  of  half  his 
books  showed  pits  and  furrows  where  worms  had 
held  their  banquets.  Some  had  no  backs,  and  all 
their  leaves  had  the  yellow  which  is  the  gray  of  books. 
His  cane  and  crutch  were  worn  and  bruised,  and 
seemed  as  if  once  they  might  have  had  an  infant 
stature  and  grown  up  and  aged  with  the  frame  they 
supported.  His  clothes  bore  the  gloss  of  the  smoothing 
iron  of  time. 

But  Prof.  Bland  was  simply  wishing  he  were  youthful 
and  handsome  and  standing  in  the  young  man's  place. 

"I  feel  as  if  I  had  travelled  a  long  way,"  said  Jim. 
"  In  fact,  it  seems  to  me  that  I  have  come  into  another 
world." 

"I  might  have  saved  you  most  of  your  trouble  if 
I  had  only  told  you  in  the  first  place  the  secret  that 
has  now  come  out,"  said  the  professor,  "and  I  was 
more  than  once  strongly  tempted  to  trust  that  you 
would  never  let  Bertha  know,  and  do  so,  but  I  could 
not.  I  felt  that  somehow  I  would  be  violating  Bertha's 
confidence,  and  I  could  not  be  sure  that  you  would 
be  better  pleased  to  have  her  the  child  of  those  who 
are  really  her  parents  than  of  those  who  you  supposed 
were." 

"Oh,  as  to  that,  I  wish  Mr.  Garrett  were  still  her 
father.  He  must  be  a  thousand  times  the  man  Gassier 
is;  and  I  suppose,  compared  as  individuals,  Mrs, 
Garrett  is  far  superior  to  Old  Maggie,  but  there  is  the 
fact  of  her  race.  Do  you  still  think  that  Mrs.  Garrett 
is  fully  white?  You  say  she  was  a  slave." 


322  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

"I  never  thought  she  was  white." 

"  But  you  told  me  once,  when  I  asked  you,  that  she 
surely  was,  though  from  all  I  saw  and  heard  I  could 
not  believe  it." 

"No,  James,  you  asked  me  if  I  thought  there  was 
any  negro  blood  in  Bertha's  mother." 

"Yes." 

"I  told  you  no." 

"Well?" 

"But  which  mother  did  you  mean,  and  which  did 
I  mean?" 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Jim  quietly. 

"It  was  a  truth  you  could  see  but  one  side  of,  but, 
as  I  said,  I  could  not  tell  you  that,  and  could  but 
leave  the  words  with  you,  hoping  the  assurance  I 
thus  gave  might  blind  the  eyes  of  a  love  that  I  could 
not  make  to  see  all,  and  that,  so  far  as  it  was  seeing, 
was  seeing  wrongly.  And,  besides,  I  was  then  informed 
only  by  my  own  observation  as  to  just  what  the  re- 
lation was  between  you  and  Bertha,  and  I  could  not 
on  what  was,  after  all,  a  presumption,  hazard  the 
revelation  of  which  we  have  been  speaking." 

Pressley  was  by  this  time  beginning  to  be  absorbed 
with  reflection  on  what  he  had  just  heard  and  on  how 
far  the  facts  had  left  him  out  of  their  confidence  in 
the  most  important  matter  of  his  life,  and  he  was 
disposed  to  be  silent.  The  professor,  also,  was  inclined 
this  way,  hah7  mistrusting  whether  he  had  prudently 
proceeded  to  the  extremity  in  this  matter  whither  his 
sympathy  for  his  two  young  friends  had  led  him. 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  323 

But  they  fell  to  talking  about  everyday  affairs, 
school  matters  and  small  current  events,  and  thus 
ended  the  evening  in  common  sociability. 

After  that  the  young  man  needed  common  sleep, 
but  the  chords  of  his  being  had  been  set  vibrating  by 
rare  influences,  and  the  subtle  fingers  kept  at  work, 
playing  more  and  more,  as  consciousness  became  be- 
guiled of  judgment,  a  fantastic  medley  of  all  airs  from 
a  ditty  to  a  dirge. 

The  next  morning  he  was  early  out  of  the  village,  and 
on  to  Good  Hope. 

Good  Hope!  In  the  name,  as  it  proved,  lay  a 
revival,  for  final  fulfillment,  of  the  promise  formerly 
read  therein  by  the  now  returning  lover.  Love  pre- 
sided over  the  court  instituted  for  a  review  of  his 
conduct,  and  a  plenitude  of  mercy  was  shown  which, 
though  he  craved  it  all,  he  could  not  accept  without 
some  protest  in  his  heart. 

Pressley  found  no  indictment  against  him  save  the 
mere  record  of  what  Bertha  had  suffered,  as  it  came 
from  the  trembling  lips  of  the  girl  herself,  yet  this 
was  harsh  enough  to  bow  down  his  soul  in  utter  abjec- 
tion. She  was  not  otherwise  his  accuser,  but  on  this 
recital  he  based  a  self-arraignment  of  which  he  felt 
strict  justice  could  give  him  no  acquitment  and  from 
which  a  pardon,  through  grace  alone,  could  absolve 
him. 

"Forgive  you?"  Bertha  repeated.  "I  had  already 
done  so  in  my  heart." 

All  the  motives  and  emotions  that  had  tortured 


324  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

these  two  hearts  for  the  last  ten  months  were  reviewed 
by  both  together.  They  were,  indeed,  in  part  re-felt 
in  the  effort  to  express  them  in  words,  and  tears  com- 
pelled many  a  pause. 

Pressley  did  not  make  excuse,  nor  did  Bertha  suggest 
it  was  required,  for  the  action  to  which  he  had  felt 
himself  forced  by  the  facts  as  he  understood  them  to 
be.  The  cardinal  fault  with  which  he  reproached 
himself  was  that,  even  against  such  opposing  testimony, 
he  had  not  held  to  the  uttermost  the  faith  love  had 
bidden  him  hold. 

After  they  had  been  long  together,  and  as  they  stood 
with  their  arms  about  each  other,  both  their  faces 
lighted  by  a  love  that  had  survived  throughout,  but 
now  clear  of  clouds,  Bertha  thus  summed  up  the 
inquisition : 

"All  for  a  mistake!  Yes,  you  made  a  mistake, 
but  it  was  founded  on  one  which  I  had  been  making 
all  my  life.  No,  I  didn't  make  it.  It  was  made  for 
me  and  I  grew  up  in  it.  Nor  did  you  make  your 
mistake,  Jim.  It  was  made  for  you.  Two  mistakes. 
Mine  had  to  carry  yours.  With  mine  gone  yours  is 
gone." 

And  then  to  both  returned  the  vision  of  the  little 
heaven  on  earth  they  so  fondly  contemplated,  as  clear 
now  as  then,  and  nearer,  and  never  to  vanish  again. 


Bertha  continued  to  call  Mrs.  Garrett  her  mother, 
but,  as  time  passed,  her  conduct  toward  Old  Maggie, 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  325 

on  the  long  visits  that  she  and  Pressley  made  every 
summer,  became  more  and  more  of  a  filial  character, 
though  never  without  reserve.  As  if  to  supply,  as 
far  as  possible,  what  was  inevitably  lacking  in  this 
particular,  after  the  diversion  of  Bertha's  affection 
from  the  natural  course,  Pressley  treated  Old  Maggie 
with  a  respectful,  cordial  and  constant  attentiveness 
which  often  confused  while  it  gratified  her. 

A  dearer  compensation  was  hers  in  the  full  aban- 
donment of  Bertha's  children,  first  one,  then  two, 
and  then  three,  to  her  care  and  company  on  these 
summer  visits  at  the  old  home.  Two  grandmas  here, 
they  told  the  little  ones,  and  Old  Maggie  could  not 
reproach  herself  for  her  jealousy  of  them  nor  for  a 
distinct  feeling  of  satisfaction  on  perceiving,  as  she 
thought,  that  of  the  two  grandmas  she  herself,  handi- 
capped as  she  was,  was  the  favorite.  Nor  did  she  fail 
to  discern  gratefully  that  Pressley  interested  himself 
to  promote  this  friendship. 

Pressley  performed  a  like  good  office  for  Gassier. 
Soon  after  Bertha  and  Jim  were  married  and  went 
to  Indianapolis  Gassier  followed  and  opened  a  shoe- 
maker's shop  in  that  city.  When  Bertha  had  learned 
about  all  his  yearning  for  her,  her  heart  softened 
somewhat  toward  him,  so  that  she  was  able  to  think 
of  him  with  indifference  and  even  bear  his  infrequent 
presence  in  her  home.  His  whole  story  had  created 
a  great  deal  of  sympathy  for  him  in  Jim's  heart, 
and  the  young  man  sought  to  facilitate  an  inter- 
course, limited  as  it  must  be  at  best,  between  the 


326  IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE 

man  and  his  daughter's  children  that  might  even 
in  a  slight  measure  make  up  to  Gassier  the  grand- 
father what  Gassier  the  father  had  too  late  come  to 
long  for. 

Pressley  and  the  children  often  dropped  into  the 
cobbler's  shop,  where,  though  the  little  people  ran- 
sacked shelves  and  cubby-holes  and  handled  all  the 
curious  things  there  at  will,  yet  were  they  not  com- 
plained of  as  meddlesome.  Gassier,  too,  might  often 
have  been  seen  at  a  few  minutes  of  sport  with  them 
in  their  own  yard  or  on  the  walk  in  front,  and  friends 
used  to  wonder  why  it  was  that  on  Sunday  afternoons 
in  pleasant  weather  the  shoemaker  so  often  took  the 
young  lawyer's  children  for  an  outing  in  the  parks  or 
some  near  rural  spot,  for  at  Bertha's  wish,  conveyed 
by  her  husband,  Gassier  kept  his  relationship  to  her 
unknown,  but  he  was  allowed  to  play  "uncle"  to  the 
children.  Their  parents  had  but  one  anxiety  respecting 
their  intimacy  with  their  fond  friend,  and  that  was 
lest  his  ever-ready  indulgence  of  them  in  sweetmeats 
might  at  any  time  be  followed  by  physical  pains  and 
penalties. 

Abner  Garrett  did  not  live  long  enough  by  a  year 
to  witness  the  marriage  of  Bertha  and  Pressley.  He 
suffered  no  malady  well  enough  defined  for  the  doctors 
to  give  it  a  name.  He  only  grew  paler  and  more  mel- 
ancholy to  the  end.  Mrs.  Garrett  preserved  a  broken 
looking-glass  as  that  which  had  been  the  visible 
prophecy  of  his  demise. 

And,  as  the  years  went  by,  the  Old  Plantation — 


IN    THE    TWILIGHT    ZONE  327 

home  and  acres — became  but  a  faded  and  mutilated 
copy  of  what  it  had  been  in  the  days  of  its  simple 
splendor,  and  there  was  no  one  to  wonder  if  the  fates 
were  done  with  it  now. 


The   UNTAMED 
PHILOSOPHER 

AT  HOME  AND  WITH 

THE    PLUGONIANS 
OF   PLUGOLIA 

Being  a  Tale  of  Hens  and  some  other    People 

by  FRANK   W.  HASTINGS 

AUTHOR  OF  SEVERAL  WIDELY  UNKNOWN  WORKS 


The  book  is  a  series  of  deliciously  funny  essays  on  such 
things  as  Marriage,  Work,  Love,  Country,  Church,  Wrecks, 
Politics,  Sundries,  etc. 

The  book  bears  this  unique  dedication,  "Totheeyer- 
lasting,  ever  present,  ever  dignified,  ever-plentiful  and  never 
murmuring  weather  these  evidences  of  dementia  are  inscribed." 

It  is  quite  the  funniest  book  of  philosophy  ever  published 
and  one  of  the  best  works  of  humor  that  have  been  issued  in 
many  yean. 


THE   C.    M.    CLARK    PUBLISHING    CO. 
BOSTON,  MASS. 


A     000116033     2 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library  from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


